


Divided

by InvalidUser1D



Category: Divergent (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love, Sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5600128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvalidUser1D/pseuds/InvalidUser1D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not willing to blame herself any further for being Factionless, Samiyah jumps at the opportunity to house her new family and herself in the Factionless Headquarters. However, when tragedy strikes, she finds herself caught in the midst of The Apple Tree, a group determined to infiltrate the five factions and find out their horrible plans for those without one. But, while on a mission, she discovers Eric, and is left to figure out whether he'll help or hurt her duties in the long run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mama Beth And Papa Joe

**Author's Note:**

> [I don't write Headers for each chapter, however this is a disclaimer: The story starts off slow to add some backstory and explain why Samiyah becomes who she is and thinks the way she does when she meets Eric in the second chapter. Thank you]

I always believed that mornings were the most calm and innocent time of day. If you think about it, it's the start of something new. What happened yesterday ceased to matter while today, the present, brings in all sorts of opportunities. And yet, the more I think this through, the more I fight with myself and wonder whether or not this daily reminder was motivation (for what; I don't know) or completely toxic to all ideas that hope would soon come. As it never would.

Every morning as a girl, I would wake to my mother brushing my hair, and I would wake my younger sister the exact same way.

Not anymore.

Most days, I stay awake hoping to catch the sunrise, my eyes burning with sleep deprivation, but the experience filling something missing in my soul, and praying that maybe just maybe, a law will change or shelters will be made for the factionless. A boy from Abnegation, Keanu, always comes over to Mama Beth, Papa Joe and I and offers us food and sometimes first aid kits. With the diseases that swoop between the factionless, I'm not sure what a band-aid would do, though it is a rather nice gesture.

Now, let me be clear on something: Mama Beth and Papa Joe aren't my biological mother and father, thankfully. And I say that in the most respectful way possible. I wouldn't want my parents to be factionless, but at the same time, I'm glad I have them with me. Mama Beth was an Erudite-born. She's practically the smartest woman I know. She could tell me all about when she was sixteen and how her family threw her a large celebration in her honor, for staying within her faction. But she also told me once before that it was the biggest mistake of her life. One mistake on her end costed hundreds of Erudite workers to be setback on their job, and when begging for a second chance, they turned her away. I always wanted to hear her speak of it and how she felt humans shouldn't be reprimanded for small mistakes, but each time I asked afterwards, she would claim she didn't remember.

Papa Joe was rather rebellious to be in Amity. When I asked for his backstory, he simply said: "I fell in love with a girl from Amity, as a Dauntless. And I knew that Dauntless blood would still run through my veins, so I changed factions, found out she didn't feel the same, and so I left. Now how about that?"

They're a mixed couple, Papa Joe and Mama Beth, and they call me their daughter despite no connecting bloodlines, and when I found myself stuck, not even able to make an effort to prove myself worthy to be in Dauntless, I found my way here. They got me through this, even the time I attempted to sneak back into Candor and got caught and sent back by my own father.

Every morning I wake up, and every night I go to sleep wondering if they're raising my baby sister to be the girl they wanted me to be, and nothing hurts more than that.

 

The sound of footsteps in front of me woke me up, and I tiredly raised my head, feeling the imprint my garments left on my forehead. Standing in front of me was Keanu. Upon seeing my face, he grinned a bit,

shaking his head. In his hand was a bag filled with food and water and after handing me my share, he propped down beside me.

I didn't worry about if I smelled bad to Keanu, because he wasn't a snob about my situation, though I always did hope he wouldn't notice.

"Where's Mama and Papa?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"They went around to stretch their legs. They said they'll be back soon," He stated looking at me. Usually I longed for breakfast, scarfing down anything he had given me, but not today. "Why aren't you eating?"

Good question, one I didn't have the answer to, myself.

"Keanu I'm just so tired. I'm tired of living like this, of being this person."

Keanu sighed, shaking his head at me. He raised a comforting arm and placed it gently on my shoulders.

"You're having a pity party, again."

"Don't I have the right?"

Keanu rummaged in his bag while I waited for him to pull out something.

"I guess someone else will receive these carefully peeled, sliced mandarin oranges."

He dangled the fruit packed carefully in a box and shrugged jokingly.

I smirked, reaching out to take them before he moved the placement.

"Not so fast, you have to eat your sandwich, first."

Scoffing to myself, I couldn't help but smile.

"Thanks, dad." I tease playfully as I take my sandwich out the bag, taking a bite. The taste of ham and cheese warmed me. It was great to have food in my belly, especially since I didn't have it twenty-four hours ago.

Across from me, on the other side of the alley, I can see other members of the factionless. I use "members" loosely. Though we're not apart of anything, we still are in theory. Just like all other factions, we have one thing in common: Something prevented us from being in our desired factions, and thus we were the lesser, the factionless yet still remaining in a faction, just not with any privilege in this society, which was frustrating.

And then it hits me.

Around me, I see other members of our factionless faction, a fire lit to the side, some with a small shelter for one made out of cardboard and tied together with twine. I feel myself grow increasingly excited about the forming thought, and feel just as weary with all the kinks I have to work through with it. Hell, I had gotten so deep in thought that Keanu's babbling about his mother's blueberry pie flew over my head, despite how tasty.

"Yo, Samiya?" He asks, a curious grin on his face as he gently touches my shoulder.

I pause for a moment, staring at him, not even realizing I still had some of my sandwich that I hadn't chewed in my mouth.

"Huh?" I ask, beginning to chew.

"Is it the sandwich? Because I may have lied and told you it was my moms when really I made it, just in hopes that you'd eat it." He confessed sorrily. I quickly swallowed just so I could get the chance to laugh.

"No no it's not the sandwich, I just kind of got dazed or something."

"Dazed or something? Don't tell me you're actually using that thing in your skull called a brain."

Hesitating slightly, I try to find the words to explain my plan without sounding completely bonkers.

"Come with me." I tell him as I get to my feet, pacing down the alley excitedly.

"What's going on?"

"The factionless aren't even factionless." I stated in a hurried whisper. I can tell by the look on Keanu's face that he's now questioning my sanity.

"I mean...denial is a good way to try to be positive but I'm an advocate for acceptance."

"No, think about it. The factionless are not useless. We're just not accepted into factions because we fell short of training or got kicked out for whatever reason."

"Are you still bummed out about the train incident?"

Now I'm frustrated. Keanu's not understanding...or worse, he's not taking me seriously. I take another bite of my sandwich, chewing frantically before I finally gather an example.

"The other day, No Good Tom stole a biscuit from Cody. No Good Tom outran Cody. Want to know why," I ask, looking at Keanu. He's silent, allowing me to continue on with my theories. "Because No Good Tom was in Dauntless!"

"And you're saying?" Keanu asked.

"I'm saying that even though we're not in a current faction, we still possess skill and knowledge from our prior ones! So are we really as useless as they say? What if we all prove that we're somehow able to utilize the skills we never forgotten?"

"But how could you organize a group of vengeful Factionless people to help take over the city?"

He's got me there, and it seems like all hope for me, and even Mama Beth and Papa Joe are lost. I fear that I'll be here for far too long, incurably hungry and always stuck in the rain, being watched closely yet from a distance by Dauntless guards, where I should've been, had I been ready to jump, but could not.

I turn to Keanu who looks lost but just as sympathetic, and I want to burst out and ask if I can stay with him for just one night, to know how it feels to sleep in a bed or bathe. But I cannot.

Imagining another day here is like watching my life waste away, one day at a time.

My stomach rumbles, and I'm thankful for my first and only meal of the day. I religiously only eat half, though since Keanu's blessed me with fruit, I feel like I'm on vacation.

I turn to him, holding up the sandwich and putting it back in its bag.

"I'll save the rest." I speak, despite knowing I'll be hungry soon after.

From around the corner, holding hands and talking, is Mama Beth and Papa Joe, trotting our way.

For a man of seventy, Papa Joe is tall, about six feet, while Mama Beth slumps beside him, pale and short.

To the right, Keanu's mother calls out to him to return home, and as he trails off, I silently watch in envy.

"Did you have your fill, child?" Mama Beth asks. She and I both know the food they give is not enough, but it's something, and we're always thankful.

"I did, mama." I speak, returning to our spot to sit, talk, and simply watch.

Four years. I've known mama and papa for four years.

 

Being factionless, you don't really know what to do, or when to do anything. You just sit, and walk, and search for more food, if any. Most days, I take about three naps all together, two if it's raining, four if we relocate.

Yet, just as I found myself dozing off for my second one today, the sound of a loud truck alerted me.

I stood up as mama and papa sat, eagerly looking around.

"What is, Sam?" Papa Joe asks, holding onto Mama Beth's hand tightly.

There's two women in a truck, both speaking to some Dauntless guards. The conversation is short, and I see the two women smile sweetly to the guards, as they smile back, though as soon as they turn away, the Dauntless guards frown, speaking amongst themselves, now.

The truck pulls up and the two women hop out. There's one with short, buzzed hair. She's Black and wears tattered clothes that had been sewn with different colored threads. They're evidently Dauntless clothes, and seeing the pop of color was odd.

The other has shoulder-length brown hair and a serious but kind look on her face.

The two women analyze the crowd and their features soften.

"My name is Evelyn Johnson, leader of the Factionless. We have living quarters, ground for the elderly and disabled, top for the others. We provide those with the ability to work, but not for money. You'll work, if you're capable of doing so, in exchange for food and clothes."

The more I listen to her speak, the more it sounds like a dream, or my words I spewed to Keanu earlier taking shape and form before me.

I helped Mama Beth and Papa Joe to their feet and to the car, receiving first advantage being that they were the oldest factionless members there.

Stopping at it before stepping up, Mama Beth looks up at Papa Joe. I could tell they're thinking about something. They aren't speaking, but instead of doing so, they head into the back of the pick-up truck while I follow suit.

 

For a whole week, I forced myself to like my job, to like my sleeping quarters, and to smile just to not worry Mama Beth and Papa Joe. They were worried, but glad to not be on the street any longer. With the Factionless system, we were all given jobs out of a draw. While most people in the system work for themselves, I worked for three people. Extra jobs, extra hours, and missing the truck ride home, walking home every night. When I arrived home, a good percentage of the Factionless would be sleeping except for mama and papa who would wait up to make sure I got home safe and a random resident, Jules, who would do nothing but stare at me whenever I come in. I wasn't sure if he were a guard or not, but he was handsome. And despite mama and papa's wishes in telling me to steer clear from the likes of him, it was challenging.

And still, despite being off the street, I knew that whatever it was that I was looking for in my life, I wouldn't find it here. I kept reminding myself that this was temporary, but how temporary could it be if I were Factionless forever?

In the back of my mind I longed for the pies Keanu's mom would make, and the mandarin oranges he would provide. I wondered if he ever missed me as much as I missed him.

Walking in, I punched my thumb in the scanner. My name popped up on the screen before the desk worker and she reached down, handing me my dues. Grabbing it proudly in my hands, I begin walking and stop once I begin checking.

Confused, I turned around and headed right back to where I was.

"Excuse me, I have a family of three and you only provided me with one shirt."

The woman looked me over and sucked her teeth lazily.

"You do know that most residents receive one shirt and two pairs of pants a week. We're giving you two pairs of pants and three shirts."

"And the problem is?"

"You get food everyday. But we'll need to cut back on giving you shirts. The problem is that we need to provide for incoming Factionless."

"Bullshit, I got three shirts last week. I work hard all week and I need what's right."

"You got three shirts to welcome you into the headquarters. And in case you've forgotten, you've worked for only one week. Others have been here for months. What makes you think you get top priority?"

"Then make more shirts." I spit.

"You work at the factory. You make them."

I bang my fist on the counter, not caring who hears me, and from the corner of the room I can see Jules watching me, visibly amused by anger. I choose not to argue with her any longer. I'm tired, sweaty, and most importantly-- hungry. Other factionless eat around six, when their shift ends. I eat at 12. 12 midnight.

Angrily, I walk over to Mama Beth and Papa Joe who look just as displeased as I do.

"How are you guys?" I ask, handing them some small styrofoam cups and opening a bottle of water.

"Nevermind us." Mama Beth speaks, placing her hand on my leg.

At her touch, I have no choice left but to cry. I'm all out of answers, all out of ideas. It's crowded, and I no longer know how to feel, or what to feel. My appetite is suddenly gone and I push the food over to them, who reject it since I didn't eat first.

"They aren't giving us enough clothes for you guys, and the food is scarce. I feel as though the only good thing is the shelter."

"Then focus on that good thing." Papa Joe spoke, his hand on my other thigh.

Their touch is gentle and warm, but the look of concern on their face just makes it harder to bare. I came into here believing we'd have what we need and more, but we don't.

I should've known.

"I don't want you guys to be disappointed or upset that I can't bring in enough for you."

All my fears and struggles come forth and turn into sobs. I get a few insensitive "shh's" from others sleeping, but I can't help myself.

After a short while, Mama Beth and Papa Joe send me off to sleep, and I go reluctantly, being that I didn't want to keep them up waiting. I hated it here, but at the same time I was grateful. My bed was a cot, and I barely had any clothes. And the more I think of this and my time in the factory, sewing and stitching and moving machines, I cry.


	2. The Apple Tree

The next morning I'm getting ready for work, as other Factionless are as well, and head down to see mama and papa. To my surprise, they're both sleeping; mama on the small cot, and papa sitting upright in the chair, his arm resting on the table next to him. I want to wake them and tell them good morning before they send me off for my usual run, but they look so peaceful, almost too peaceful. Though when I see Papa Joe's chest rise with each breath, I'm relieved to know he's alive; tired, but alive.  

I line up amongst other factionless, and take a few steps forward every now and then to get closer and closer to the Transpo. My head is cloudy and my eyes, just as puffy. I wasn't ready for work, but was I ever?  

From the corner of my eye, someone stands out. He does so because he's alone, munching on a bright red apple. I glance at him, noticing it was Jules and tuck a bit of my curly hair behind my ear. Secretly, I want to rush up to him and kiss him before taking a bite out of his apple, but I keep to myself and try to ignore the sound my stomach makes.  

"Hungry?" He asks. 

Shit, could he hear that? Could everyone else in front and behind me hear that? 

I look at him, an awkward smile forming on my face as I choose not to answer him. THe line moves forward a bit, and so does he, leering at me with every bite he takes and piece he chews of his apple. I watch as he extends it out to me, and while I'm tempted to take it, I decline.  

"No, have it. I've got plenty more." He assures me. I hesitate for a brief moment, but take it, rotating it to not bite in the same places he's bitten and wonder how it is possible he could have "plenty more".  

I take a bite and my stomach thanks me, sensing food and ceasing the growling, for now. And then it dawns on me. Jules couldn't possible have all these apples like he claims, since apples only come on Tuesdays.  

"What do you mean you have plenty more?"  

He grins at my curiosity and steps a little closer. He looks around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, though most didn't really care.  

"I have a ton of apples." he says, raising his eyebrows. Suddenly, I'm starting to think apples are no longer just simple fruits, but something else, something secretive.  

Playing along, I try not to focus on his hazel eyes for too long, and open my mouth briefly to ask: "And where do you conjure such...'apples'." 

"From the apple tree, and if you're ever in a rut, you too can have apples." He gleams. Now I know how Keanu must've felt when listening to my ideas the week prior. Not wanting to hear anymore and now believing this guy is completely out of it, I turn back forward, praying the line moved faster so he could stop preying on me with his coded lingo.  

"Interested?" 

"No." I respond quickly.

"Not yet." Jules smirks.

"No, really, I'm fine."

But I'm not fine. I'm curious. Painfully and utterly curious, but worried as to what his "apples" on his "apple tree" could be. Just as I had realized that the wondering would slowly eat away at me, I turn to face him, and stand in confusion, seeing him gone.  

"Don't do it." The person behind me speaks. I turn, seeing a middle-aged man with glasses and his hair slicked back. He looks exquisitely dressed for a factionless, and I'm suddenly wondering if I'm in the right place, or if I'm dreaming.  

"Why, what was he on about?" 

"He's preying on you. Just be careful."

I had never been told to be careful of anyone before, and with the man's words, an instant wave of worry washes over me. How was Jules going to prey on me? What were his intentions? What did he mean by apples? 

 

Coming from work, I stop at the front desk just as I had done the previous night, and watch as Evelyn Johnson stands, speaking with the woman situated at it. As soon as I walk in, they cease all conversation and look at me apologetically. Was this about the shirts? Were they asking me to leave the headquarters?

"Samiyah?" She asks, taking a step forward.  

My eyes are traveling back and forth from the woman to Evelyn, and back. Had she told on me? All because of some shirts? 

"Yes." I nod.  

On the counter is a tray of food waiting for me, and I know it's not even warm, but it's calling my name. I desperately want to brush past her and help split it up just between the three of us, but she's blocking me, and I'm growing increasingly concerned.  

"May I have a word with you?" 

"Have forty if you want." I speak, walking past her. My hands reach the tray and I pause, turning back to Evelyn who now looks pained.  

"I'm sorry," I express genuinely. "I just need to feed my family." 

"Well, that's what I wanted to speak to you about."  

I stare at her as she takes a few cautious steps towards me. Turning around, I see Mama Beth and Papa Joe's living quarter empty. My skin forms goosebumps and I desperately want to jump out of it. I turn back to Evelyn and without even caring about food, I look her dead in the eye. 

"Talk to me." 

- 

Seeing the bodies wasn't the worse part of this situation, but wondering how they had died was. I didn't cry, or scream or shout when I saw them. All I had was confusion, all I had was myself, now. 

"It's suspicious that this happened so abruptly, and both of them at the same time." Evelyn spoke, covering the bodies back with the white sheets.  

I'm nauseated, and I can't tell if it's because my body ran on a single half-eaten apple all day or because Mama Beth and Papa Joe was dead.  

Possibly both.  

Evelyn walks over to me, her voice low and soft, as if speaking would make the world shatter.  

"It is pretty remarkable, however, that they managed to live in such conditions of homelessness for about sixty years. Add their age in with exposure, and the possibility of unknown diseases or viruses being spread and you have an answer. But at the same time..." 

I wished she would stop using that term.

 _The same time..._  

What could possibly be another reason? Why would they harm themselves, or better yet why would anyone harm them? 

I lower my head, ashamed and unable to get their peaceful faces out of my mind. In shock, I turn away from the room in the catacombs and head upstairs, stopping every few steps to settle my stomach. I pass by a couple of residents who know about the ordeal and ignore them as they offer their condolences.  

Once I reach the main level, my pace quickens. I'm outside, breathing in the fresh air of the night sky, trying to gather myself before I lean over, regurgitating stomach acid by the front entrance.  

I've known Papa Joe and Mama Beth for four years.  

- 

The next three days, I stayed home from work and in bed. Evelyn, who was especially nice to me during this time, brought me some chamomile tea those days and gestured for me to keep it a secret from other residents who may want some.  

All I did was lay there, wondering why and how this could have happened so soon and without me knowing, without them telling me something if they knew they were feeling poorly, anything. But with such a confusing situation, you don't really know what are appropriate questions to ask, even if you're only asking them to yourself. 

From my bed, I'm laying there, still unable to shake the nausea from my stomach. I haven't eaten, and the more I think about food, the more I remember the last thing I ate.  

Apples...apples... 

I sit up from my bed, neither caring about my hair or overall appearance, and hopped to my feet, searching and looking. I was neither looking for food or apples, but for someone. Someone who I felt could help, whose exact words invited me to see him had I ever been in a rut.  

I look around the headquarters and find him, sitting with a group of guys, eating another bright red apple. He looks to the side and sees me, though he doesn't greet me with his usual grin. Instead, it's like he knew why I had come.  

Why else would I? 

His friends all turn their heads to face me, and laugh, though Jules' stare is dead serious. He slides down the bench of the table, and I'm almost pulled towards him, though I'm wondering if he's going to bring up Mama Beth and Papa Joe, at all.  

I sit down, and without speaking first, Jules nods at me and hunches over the table.  

"You're not serious." One boy speaks. He has glasses and long black hair in a ponytail while the man sitting beside him who I assumed was his twin wore identical glasses and his hair in a spiked mohawk.  

"You mean to tell me you recruited a girl?" A shorter male asked as his eyes shifted from me to Jules.  

"What is she going to do? Steal bras and panties from Erudite living quarters?" Asked one twin while the rest of the boys howled with laughter.  

The more they laughed, the more I could feel the anger inside me build up. I felt like I was wasting my time and I had only sat down for seventeen seconds. Yet, there was no turning back, now. Actually thinking on it now, I could've turned away at any moment, but what surprised me the most was that I didn't want to. I felt rejuvenated, sick, and giddy by the idea of doing something I wasn't supposed to do, doing something that would make me forget this all.  

"Whatever it is you're doing, I can do it if you teach me." 

"And why should we put our trust in a girl? Someone emotional and fragile." Said one twin. 

"Someone who can't even frown at a baby." Said the other. 

"Someone can't even kill a fly." Said the shorter.  

I turned to Jules, ready for him to join in on the nit-picking his friends were doing. Instead, he just stares. He takes a bite out of his apple and wipes his mouth on his sleeve.  

"Once you're introduced to what we do, you can't go back. It's either all or nothing."  

"Nothing means we kill you." Said the twins in unison.  

My heart skips a beat and I'm now wondering whether or not this is a good idea. The more I look at Jules, the more I could see mama and papa in my head, reminding me that he's up to trouble, but I didn't want to think of them. I needed whatever it was these boys had. And I needed a lot of it.  

"Alright." I agree with a nod. The other boys seem shocked, and it's unable to decipher whether they're as pleased with my decision as Jules is, or if they're intimidated that I'm willing to freely venture into the unknown.  

With a toothy grin, Jules focuses on me. For the first time since I've seen him, he sets his apple down, wipes his hands on his already dirty jeans, and cracks his knuckles.  

"Let's go apple pickin'."

 

- 

I had followed the boys down to a dungeon type place outside of the shelter and ways away from the city center, almost near Amity, but not quite. We appear on a small shack, and from the side of the house, Jules brushes away some leaves, revealing a trap door. The remaining boys look out as he pulls a key from his pocket and opens up, letting me down the stairs first.

I'm surprised at what I find, seeing electronics and five different laptops lined together. The rest of the boys come down and I stand there in awe at everything. If Erudite had a secret lair, this would be it. 

On the walls were blueprints, on a wooden bench were the laptops, and on the floor, sleeping bags. As I'm standing, Jules walks past me and to the last laptop on the bench.

"What's your name?" Jules asks.  

I hesitate for a moment and perk up, wondering if it's a trick question.  

"Oh uhm, Samiyah."  

Jules stares at me, blinks and opens his mouth once more: "What's your name?" 

I feel as though he's lazily telling me to pick a name, which flies over my head for a second too long before he speaks up for me. 

"Your name is Milo," he begins. "You're a twenty...." 

He dawns on my age and I perk up.  

"Just twenty, I'll be twenty-one in October." I speak. 

"Don't care," Jules assures, causing the others to laugh. "You're twenty. You're Factionless, and you're a janitor. Your parents died when you were young, and you were a misguided teenager who tried to get into such and such faction, failed and now you're here. Oh and that's Nick, Noah, and Raul." 

Jules begins searching through some files while the other three sit at the laptops, opening it up and beginning to do some coding. I'm impressed by how fast they type, but even more so that this place exists.

"Do you know anything about coding or hacking?" Jules asks. He takes out a tablet and switches the camera on, holding it up to face me.  

"Uh," I speak, and the camera flashes. Jules looks at the photograph taken and hooks it up to a computer, printing out a new ID with a new name for me. Everything's moving so fast, and I'm fighting the urge to run out for air. "No." 

"Perfect!" Noah, the twin with the longer hair, cries out sarcastically.  

"That's fine. Four of us on the computer, and one left to finish the game." 

"What exactly am I doing?" I ask. Jules pats the empty seat bench next to him and pats it. I walk over, watching him closely as he looks into my eyes.  

He extends his arm as if to reveal the lair to me once more.  

"This is The Apple Tree. We, including you, are the branches, and the factions are our apples. We have the power to hold them in place with just the tips of our fingers."

I'm about to ask a bunch of questions Jules may deem silly and then I hear Nick.

"I'm into Candor."

"I got Erudite." Raul speaks lowly, leaning forward to closely see the screen. 

"What is this all for?" I ask. I'm starting to feel a bit breathless, and attempting to catch up with all that's going on around me. Coding, getting into the factions' computers? This all seemed so wrong and yet to be in on this made my stomach flutter.

"From time and time, factions kick out people for minuscule reasons and for incomplete initiation. How is that fair if someone has not been trained the way they were?" 

"It's not but-" 

"But they don't care," Jules speaks for me. "What we do is give the factions a little scare ever so often, make them realize how badly they can't live without their faction duties, and make them aware of how their lack of empathy hurts the majority of living people in this society." 

 

I'm starting to understand, and the more I think of it, it doesn't seem so bad. 

"Where did you get all this equipment?" 

Jules shrugs a shoulder and looks down at his hands and I'm wondering whether he's ashamed or uncomfortable sharing that bit.

"The twins used to be apart of Erudite. And on my way doing janitorial work, I just took some things from the storage closet that no one would use." 

"But how did you not get caught?" 

"Honestly, who checks the garbage?" He winked. 

I get where he's coming from and the concept. For so long, my anger has been pent up at myself for not making it to the Dauntless initiation. And with the recent passing of both mama and papa, I knew that this wasn't my fault. This wasn't anyone's fault. It was the system's fault, and it was thoroughly flawed.  

I stand up, and capture Jules' attention as I do so. I'm staring at the blueprints, noticing the changes they want to make and seeing their plans for their next big move.  

Hatred boils in my stomach and I turn around to face Jules, almost snarling at him.  

"When can I start?"  

- 

I tried my best to keep a smile on my face and mama and papa from my mind. Jules had told me last night that Dauntless were lenient when it came to female help coming in. With guys, they liked to pick on them. Hell they liked to pick on anyone, but they wanted me as bait.  

Strolling the halls, I could hear a group of Dauntless members in the pit though I was in the sleeping quarters. There were a few people in the sleeping quarter, and with my faux friendly voice, I speak up, 

"Any trash?" 

The girl looks over her shoulder and carelessly reaches for her bin, handing it to me. I dump the trash in the bin and pretend like I'm tucking some hair behind my ear, though I'm turning the earpiece given to me by Jules on.   

Once I reach the hall, Jules begins speaking to me.  

"Okay, you're in?" 

"Yeah, but where am I going?" 

"Make your way upstairs to the elevator and to your right, then make a left. There should be a...oh wait hold on, I think I can see you. Yeah, I can see you." 

"You tapped into their security camera?" 

"Does that surprise you?" 

I shake my head, which Jules sees and replies: "Good." 

He's beginning to repeat his instructions, but he's breaking up. and I'm finally it hard to listen.

"Jules, Jules." I call out frantically, though I don't hear him respond.  

When I get off the elevator, I don't even try to wonder if he can still see my through the security cameras, and stop in my tracks, wondering exactly where it is that I'm supposed to be going.  

I roam the halls a bit and search the doors, feeling the knob, and noticing they're all locked, except one.  

I stand in the doorway and poke my head inside, seeing two men with their backs facing me. They're standing over a groaning boy in a bed and I instantly recognize it as an infirmary.  

 _Perfect._  

I manage to step in without them noticing, and with my back turned, head towards a desk. It's small and empty, not containing anything that I could back at the apple tree. Not to blow my cover in case, I quickly grab a trash bin and toss it into my larger bin.  

The two men who were on the verge of arguing snap around to look at me.  

I pause, staring back at them.   

"Is it common nature for Curbers to be so rude? Or is it a skill learned during initiation?" One asks. He's giving me this look as if I were out of my mind to walk into an open area. He looks tough, big and thick-like from the distance I'm standing, but before even analyzing his looks, I focus on the slur. 

Curbers. Ha.  I'd heard that one before.

"Well then, I see you've passed your Factionless initiation since you harbor the same mannerisms." I spat. 

The man looks at me while the other has a faint smirk on his face, not wanting to laugh and make his embarrassment more than what it needed to be. His stare becomes a glare and intensifies as the seconds pass on. While completely surprised at myself, I find it amusing to see how offended he got when being associated with being Factionless. Typical. 

I can feel him staring me down from my peripheral, and without another glance at him, I begin dumping the first bin I see, then another, and his eyes are following me.

I'm ready to leave this room, but as soon as I turn around, heading towards the door, I'm stopped.

"Not so fast." The same speaks, louder than he did before. The man makes it to where I'm standing, our height difference more distinct, now. As he looked down at me, I stared back at him. He wasn't ugly, that's for sure, but his features and the seriousness of his face compacted with his tone made it hard to find his true being handsome upon first impression. It was clear to me that he was obviously intimidating to initiates, and right now to me. He had thick tattoos on his neck and arms which only emphasized his muscles more, and his hair, neatly slicked back and away from his face, the opposite to mine.  

"What's that?" he asks, his eyes focusing on my ear and then back to me. 

"An ear." The answer is almost pushed out of me, and again I'm proud of myself for camouflaging my intimidation.

Inside, I was freaking out, simply stalling to try and come up some sort of answer before I grew too uneasy. I wasn't good at lying, being from Candor and all, but something popped in my mind that made sense. Something that could save my ass.  

"It's a-" 

Before I could even explain my lie, the other man from across the room called out to him. 

"Eric, get the doctor, Matthew says his vision is fuzzy."  

Fed up, Eric rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he mumbled in great disdain "weak" before brushing past me and down the opposite end of the hall.  

I peeked back inside the infirmary, seeing the tall man giving a warm look before turning away and back to whom I had assumed was their student. 

I wanted to thank him, shake his hand or something. _'Oh thank you for getting me out of one sticky situation while I dive head-first into another! Farewell!'_  

But one could only dream...ha.

I made my way down the halls, though it felt like each step I took was too much for my beating heart and stopped against a wall, trying to catch my breath.  

Out of curiosity, I press the earpiece on and hear Jules' frantic voice on the other end. 

"Oh God, oh thank God. We thought we lost you!" 

"No, no, I'm fine," I assure them. They're talking in my ear and my heart is beating fast. I eventually become more self-aware, and a smile grows on my face and somehow, I can't help but laugh at the thrill I got. "Guys, I'm on my way back home." 

"For good?" Jules asks. 

I look around momentarily, checking the empty halls briefly before revealing my answer to them. 

"I'll be back tomorrow." 


	3. Level 1 Spy

It was rainy that next day, and something about the darkness of the city, mixed in with the calming rain just made this all the more real. I truly felt like a spy, like a snoop. And I loved it. Walking through the halls, I remembered all that I was doing, all that I was trying to accomplish to make it up for myself, and others. Those that don't have a voice. Those that don't know about the revolution.  

By myself, before I turned my earpiece on, I got the chance to explore Dauntless, to get a feel for what I felt I was missing in the past four years. It was dark, little to no windows in many of the areas, and everything else just seemed dead and mysterious, which made it all the more exciting.  

I feel the self-loathing wave past me for a moment, but I look down at my trash bin and remember why I'm here, and it fuels my disgust, my jealousy, my disdain, and simultaneously my interest, in being here.  

I see a few girls pass me by, and I hope they notice me, or at least smile. They don't. They continue chatting and walking past like I wasn't even in the halls with them. I feel sad. 

And then I grow angrier with myself... 

I need to pick an emotion and stick to it. Pick a problem, pick a struggle, just figure out why I wanted to be noticed but not have my cover blown. 

I sigh to myself and stop walking. With a quick press of the button, I'm back in the game. On the other side, I could hear Jules and the guys remarking at how good the girls who just walked by me looked.  

"Who's that trudging old man they just passed?" Asked Raul.  

"That's Milo!" Called out one of the twins.  

Jules quickly hushes them and speaks into the microphone.  

"Yo, Milo, are you good?"  

I let out a small "mhm" before I'm back to walking down the halls. "Got a plan?"  

"Did you see anything interesting yesterday, or anyone?"  

I think back to my time tossing in trash in many bins, but nothing of true importance. Then it dawned on me.  

"Jules, I think I saw a leader yesterday." 

"Did you get a name?" 

"Uhm, Eric. That's all I can remember." 

"Anything to distinguish him?" 

"He has an eyebrow piercing and a couple of tattoos on his arms and neck, but I don't know if that'll show up in an ID." 

Jules isn't talking, but I can hear him mumbling underneath his breath. He's cursing, but I don't exactly know why. In the background I hear someone say: "What are the odds?" but I don't know what Jules is talking about. The only sound I hear, muffling the voices, are fast fingers typing furiously into the laptop.  

I make it just to the end of the hall, strolling around aimlessly before I hear Jules perk up.  

"Okay, Eric Coulter, Room 725. It's an apartment. Seventh floor. No other known roommates or residents of the like."  

"Got it." I speak softly, heading towards the elevator. When I get on, there are a few people who get off at the floor which leads down to The Pit. Others get off at the Control Room, and suddenly a wave of fear reaches over me. I'm the last to get off, and my legs are shaky.  

Am I cut out for this? Somewhere in between searching for Room number 725 and trying to steady my breathing, I'm reminding myself that I was cut out for Dauntless if I'm about to break into a leader's apartment.  

Down the long corridor, Eric's apartment is at a sharp left dead end with only his and another apartment directly across, and a window. Wow, an actual window in this place. Right in front of the window is a large bin, and I couldn't have been more thankful for the excuse, had I gotten caught.  

Before forcing my way in, I give a knock or two and call out, "Any trash?"  

After seconds of no answer, I try to contact Jules.  

"Do you see anything?" I whisper.  

"No one's coming down your way. You're clear." 

"I think it's empty." I whisper, praying to God that Eric was not on the other side of the door, just waiting for me with an explanation.  

"Okay, grab the knob, turn left then right. Push forward and then push the doorknob upwards and turn."  

I furrow my brow; how could this have possibly worked? I'm starting to wonder how Jules know this, and before I perform the action and question him, he speaks: "I used to be in Dauntless, so I know." 

Ah, so that's another reason why it's me who's here and not him. 

I reach for the knob and jump as Jules calls out: "Wait! Are you wearing gloves?"  

Oh, my gloves! Not only was I picking up and handling trash, but the last thing I wanted was to leave fingerprints.  

I look over my shoulder, and Jules begins speaking once again.  

"Wait, someone's coming." He speaks.  

I step away from the door, and begin fumbling with my bin, opening it. From the corner of my eye I see a group of students laughing and talking while they pass me by, not paying me any mind.  

"And you're good." Jules gives the okay as I quickly grab the knob, following his instructions and hearing a soft CLICK! 

My eyes widen at how it worked, and I look over my shoulder once more. 

"Jules, I'm in." I whisper, pulling the door closed slightly, but not fully.  

"Alright, I'm disabling the camera periodically." 

"What? Are you crazy?" I whisper. 

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." 

Trusting in him, I stand at the entrance of his apartment, more or less surprised at the space. My eyes hurt, adjusting to the dimness of his apartment and closed the door behind me.  

I stood, stepping down into his sunken livingroom, reveling in the neatness. In the center of the livingroom was a couch, a two-seater couch, and a matching coffee table, both in the color toffee. To my right was an open kitchen, where you'd just walk straight from the stove, sink, or fridge and into the livingroom with about 8 feet. To the left, a rusty bookshelf stacked on their sides. Even they did not bear dust. I noticed, though, something on the third shelf that did not resemble the other various forms of knowledge, and studied the picture; a boy, perhaps around the age of ten, giving a toothy grin with one of his front teeth missing, and a woman bending down, hugging onto him tightly. If you looked close enough, you'd see a faint fingerprint touch the photograph, and I instantly knew how dear it was to him, without even having to ask if ever. Eric seemed like the last person on Earth to hold onto memorabilia like this, but I suppose this was the exception. 

Something about the photograph made me sad, and I didn't know why, and though I wish I did, I just couldn't bother, what with my lack of time and all. 

"Tell me what you see, Milo." Jules speaks.  

I'm instantly shot back into reality, realizing what needed to be done.  

"Spiffy place," I joke about, taking one last look around before my eyes landed on two closed doors. The first that I made my way to was a bathroom, and the other, his bedroom, dark and cool with navy blue painting.  

This, too, was spacious and just as meticulous as his livingroom. To the right, by a small window near his bed, was a desk and on it, a closed laptop. Careful to not move anything out of its place, I opened the laptop, sighing at the welcome sign asking for a password. That wasn't so welcoming... 

I began looking around the room for anything that looked unfamiliar or strange, though nothing was out of the ordinary.  

"He's got nothing incriminating. Everything is secured, even the laptop."  

"Alright listen to me, you're going to hack into his computer." My gaze quickly shifts to his opened laptop, the screen still asking for a password. 

"What the fuck? No, absolutely not." 

"You broke into his apartment and now you want to turn back now?"  

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that I don't want to get caught," I speak. On the other side of the phone Jules is reprimanding me, and I'm starting to panic. I'm about to leave when I turn, looking out the window and seeing a periodic, faint and quick green light flashing behind the curtain. 

A camera?  

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. He's got his room bugged."  

"What? How do you know?" 

"There's a green light flashing and it's-" 

"Milo, that's what we're looking for. Is it a chip?"  

Weary about going to it, I push back the curtains and inspect it carefully. My heart begins to ease.  

"Yeah, it's a chip."  

"Plug it into your tablet and check it out."  

Once it's all set up, I notice that it's files. Files and files of reasonings and statements as to why and how the factionless are a danger and need to be exterminated from society. Flipping through some more, I see that they're planning on starting in waves, the first being disease genetically modified and spread through the headquarters. The second, demolishing their infrastructure.  

Bingo.  

"I got something big." 

"Make it quick because we got Eric on sight, making his way to the elevator from The Pit. Can you download the contents?"  

I'm trying, but it's not working and when finally the Download button pops up, it's at 0%, moving slower than ever from how large the file is.  

"He just got on the elevator." Jules reports. I'm watching my tablet, noticing that it's only up to 5%. Frustrated, I snatch it out the tablet.  

"I can't get it." I speak hastily as I tape it back to it's original spot.  

"We got a sighting on floor seven, end of hall. Get out of there, NOW."  

My heart is thumping fast and I close the door behind me. I'm replaying how everything looked in my head, making sure I left it as is, and then I stop.  

I didn't close the laptop. 

"Milo where are you, get out of there. He's coming!" 

"Fuck." I curse under my breath as I head back into his bedroom, carefully closing it, the bedroom door, and making my way into the livingroom, and out the door.  

"Milo! Milo come in, can you hear me?" Jules asks. Carefully closing his door, I check it, making sure it's locked. It is.  

I instantly cut off Jules, shoving my earpiece in my pocket. I can hear Eric's footsteps getting louder, approaching his apartment. I take a step to the apartment opposite his and raise my fist, knocking.  

"Any trash?" 

No answer.  

I pause when hearing footsteps coming from beside me and don't even dare look at him. I turn to the large trash bin and force the stuck latch open. His steps are slow, walking towards his room, but it feels like he's taking his time to stalk his prey. Yet, I minded my business.  

I grab the inner bin from the outer, and struggle with the weight of it, tripping a bit and dumping most of its contents out.  

I turn, seeing the trash spill out in front of Eric's door with his hand on the knob. I can only imagine his frustration if even a tissue that wasn't his reached halfway inside his door.  

I kneel down, purposely avoiding eye contact as I gather the larger items and get my broom and dust pan for the smaller. I notice that he's watching me, and I don't know what to expect when I look up, but when I do, I'm not surprised. 

His face is set on me, and I could tell he's unpleased with the abundance of trash by his door.  

"Sorry." I speak, gulping a bit. Despite breaking into his apartment just two minutes prior, this was probably the most nerve wracking moment I've endured today, all because he looked at me.  

He scoffed at my apology before allowing his face to return to its normal, or what I had assumed was normal, way-- emotionless, unfriendly, and cold.  

He used his key to open his door, and I wonder if he knows the tricks with the handle that Jules knew. He steps inside his apartment, kicking some of the trash away from his door, and closing it, locking it up.  

 

\-- 

"I'm telling you, they're conspiring against the Factionless. They want to get rid of the headquarters and wipe us all out with a disease." I spoke frantically.  

Jules stared, only having one bite from his apple and listening intently.  

"They're making an army?" Noah asked, looking at all of us.  

"No, they already have one. And it's between all the factions against us."  

"Dead to society, and dead altogether." Jules spoke. He reached for his apple and hesitated.  

"Samiyah, you have to get that chip." He spoke intently.  

"If you would've seen his apartment, oh my God."  

"Okay forget about his interior decorator for a minute and listen to what we're telling you." Raul spoke.  

"No you listen. He is so meticulous that he would probably notice if his comforter were folded ¾ of an inch too far. There's no replacing the chip, I'm telling you." 

"Then we need another leader."  

"He was with someone, some guy. I think they were both leaders arguing over the well-being of an initiate." 

Jules scoffed, "Four."  

"Like the number?" Raul asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"9 times out of 10, whatever Eric's got going on, Four's in on it or knows. They're both leaders so what they deal with would be mirrored." Jules explains. 

"So what are you saying? That I ditch Eric and focus on Four?" 

"Four isn't as harsh as Eric. It would be best on you, especially now that you've seen him so much, you don't want him to get the idea that something is up." 

Just as Jules finished, everyone's attention turned to the door, watching as three Dauntless men come in. They stop at the front desk, and I can identify one as Eric. He has something in his hands, holding it and showing it to her. The woman at the front desk looks over to me and then grabs her communicator, calling for Evelyn who eventually shows up.  

"This is bad." Raul mumbles for only us to hear.  

Evelyn speaks with Eric momentarily and then looks around the crowded headquarters, landing on me. She motions for me to come and I feel like a ghost. Everyone's looking at me so strange, and though I don't look at them, I can feel their eyes on me, and I'm suddenly so self-conscious.  

"You dropped your ID." She spoke, holding it out to me. She takes one step forward and in a low voice so that neither Eric or anyone can hear, she says, 

"I want you in my office in five." and walks off.  

I'm either on the verge of fainting or just plain screaming. As Eric approaches me, his hands behind his back, I try any way possible to make the situation any less tense.  

"You came all the way back to deliver an ID," He doesn't answer and instead he's looking at me as though he's trying to completely figure me out by the look on my face. I'm unsure whether he can read the intimidation I feel, but his eyes are so cold and dark though they're hazel. "What are you a spy?"  

I kind of smirk at my own ironic question, still attempting to diffuse the tension, though he doesn't budge. He looks as though he has a secret, ready but still trying to figure out what was the best way to spill it.  

"Believe me, there's nothing worthy in this dump," He insists before taking a step closer to me. "But, I'll have you know whatever it is that you're up to, I'm onto it. Whenever you take a stroll through the halls in Dauntless, I'll be watching." 

His voice is low and a bit raspy, almost soothing, but I snap out of the brief moment of ASMR and clear my throat. 

He turns to walk away, and all my fears bubble in my stomach. I don't know whether it's gas, or my stomach prepping to vomit from the nerves, or if my defense-mechanism was kicking in at the most inopportune moment yet again, but I find myself licking my lips, ready to speak again. 

"Is that a promise?" I joke, a nervous smile on my face as I fiddle with my ID. He stops walking and turns around to give one last hard stare for a second too long before walking out with his comrades.  

Once he's out of my sight, I can finally breathe again.  


	4. The Chip

"What the hell were you thinking?" She's not yelling, but I wish she were so that I can have something to complain about. Something that would validate my anger for getting caught. But I don't blame her. How would you feel if you let someone into your home and they abused your rules and guidelines? Yeah, exactly... 

So I sat there, by myself, and let her give it to me.  

"I don't even know what to call you. Is it Samiyah or Milo? Because you're supposed to be working at the factory, and yet you're prancing around in Dauntless? For what reason?"  

I'm sitting there and I'm listening to her, but I'm choosing not to answer.  

My arms are crossed, so are my legs, and my mouth is pursed.  

Evelyn, who is standing, is growing increasingly fed up with my behavior. To her I'm probably acting like a brat, but if she knew, oh if only she knew... 

Evelyn leans forward on the table, her hands planted flatly on it as she looks me in the eye.  

"I'm not going to repeat myself." 

And she doesn't have to.  

I stand up, ready to leave but instead I evaluate my options.  

"There's something going on with the factions against the Factionless." I burst. 

She furrows her eyebrow, and I can tell she's confused. She's giving me the same look Keanu gave me when I spoke of wanting to round up all Factionless together. And seeing it again didn't make me feel good. 

"What else is new?" Evelyn asks, standing up straight now, eyeing me.  

I bang my fist on the table, hating what I was about to do, but doing so for the sake of consistency. 

"I...well let's say you have five apples, five bright golden and healthy apples. The five apples want to isolate themselves from the rotten apple. Only problem is that there isn't one rotten apple, but there are many. The five golden apples feel threatened and what better way to not let the perfect apples rot, then to get rid of the rotting apples?" 

Evelyn's growing bored and tired. I can tell she's about to send me away, but determined to state my case, I continue.  

"The factions represent the healthy apples. The factionless are the rotten ones." 

"Do you know something I don't?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.  

 

I didn't expect for this to happen, but I found myself walking out into of the Factionless Headquarters to let Evelyn see for herself how all of this ties into the Factionless and how we need to stop this.  

I knock on the trap door built into the ground and watch as Raul opens the latch, looking at me, then to Evelyn, as a look of pure hate grows on his face. He climbs down, letting us enter down the steps and once we read the bottom, I stand there, Evelyn next to me with Jules sitting in his computer, eyeing the both of us.  

"She knows." Is all I can manage to speak. Evelyn looks around the underground lair and at all the blueprints. Still trying to process how this entire lair came to be, she stands, mouth agape as she looks at all of us.  

"How long has this been going on?"  

Being a newbie, I turn to Jules who stands. 

"Couple of months."  

"And how did you come about this information? Where is the proof?"  

"I don't have any, because it's hard to come by but I'll get something next time." I promise, nodding at Jules.  

"Speaking of which, I have the mock chips. When he plugs it in, it'll read an 'Error' message." Jules handed me the chip, and I feel rejoiced at the similarities and slip it into my pocket.  

"What's on the chip?" Evelyn asks curiously.  

"We'll find out tomorrow." Jules states, looking from her to me. 

- 

I keep my cool and remind myself that this will all be worth it. In my ear, Jules is reminding me about the room number: 403. They're watching me, and though their eyes are on me, I don't feel safe, at all.  

I'm alone in Dauntless. Just a broom, dust pan, and a trash bin, maybe some cleaning supplies. How sufficient against guns and knives, skilled users, too.  

I force the thought out of my head and stop as one girl finishes her green smoothie in a devastatingly long slurp and with puffed cheeks, tosses the empty cup into the trash bin. Getting on the elevator, I see some Dauntless initiates heading down to The Pit, as per. 

Once they get off, I'm pressing number 4 repeatedly, and just as the doors close, a member runs over to me. He's tanned skin with dark curly hair.  

"Hey yo! We need you." 

_Great_ , I think. Though, I can't really get mad, being that I'm in janitorial uniform and all. 

I follow him as he leads me to a part of the Pit where people aren't walking. On the floor is food and drink, and a large amount of it. Do these people not know how to eat? 

I sigh, beginning to clean up the mess as a few people watch. A girl with dark red hair in a high ponytail looks at me and then to her friends. 

"God I'm so glad I'm not Factionless. I would much rather be dead."  

I snap my head, looking at her while they laugh, not even daring to turn their head. I know that if I do something I'll get in trouble, but I focus back on my work, dumping another portion of the wasted food into the bin. I look up, feeling eyes on me and notice Eric, eating with a few people talking around him. He even leers when he eats, how pleasant. 

I try my best to ignore him, but I feel like the mixture of the girls laughing at me and his gaze, I'm being stalked with my dignity as their target.  

As soon as I finish, I head back towards the elevator, and as I wait, I take a curious glance over my shoulder, wondering whether or not Eric was still watching me. A wave of thrill overcomes me when I notice he's not there, but the lack of his presence gets me more on edge than him actually watching me.  

I'm looking around frantically and nearly miss my elevator, but I step on, and contact Jules.  

"He's on the move. I don't know where but he's out, and he's walking." I speak.  

"He's on the seventh floor and walking. You have time," he assures me. "Go." 

Hurrying, quickening my pace, I make it to the door and with the same technique as the other day, I open it with gloved hands after checking if he were inside first.  

Pushing the door open slightly, I push the earpiece further in my ear.  

"Talk to me." I speak to Jules, looking around and stepping carefully.  

Four's apartment is about the same size as Eric's, except Four's is more devil-may-care with some areas of it neat and others just gone with the wind. He has large windows, and I appreciate that. Light, something to at least show signs of cheerfulness, if any.  

"He's still on seven, heading to the elevator." 

Hearing him now, I start to move up my pace. With Four, I doubt he'd notice that the pair of pants on the floor were to the left or right of his bed. Could it be that their rooms reflected their personalities?  

I wondered... 

I headed to the far back of his apartment, searching for something, anything that would be considered incriminating to Dauntless.  

And then, I see it... 

A desk with a laptop on it, and to the right, the same chip that Eric had, out in the open.  

Too easy.  

I looked around, hoping to find something, or anything. Perhaps that was his decoy?  

I got to my knees, looking underneath the desk or his carpet for another chip.  

"He's on six, Samiyah. And he's walking fast." 

"I'll only be a minute." I speak, looking under the carpet, under his bed and nearly everything else.  

"He's on five, and he's not looking as thoroughly. He's breezing on through."  

"Shit, alright." I speak, on my hands and knees crawling around.  

If I were a very important chip that talked about the value or lack thereof for a certain group's life, where would I be? 

Suddenly, a faint light flashed from under his desk chair, and I quickly crawled forward. Looking under it, I noticed a bright green chip, same as Eric's, taped underneath his seat.  

Bravo.  

"He's on fourth. He's in the opposite direction. Get out, now." Jules instructed.  

"Alright, I'm done." I spoke, taking the decoy chip in the real chip's place and hurrying out, closing the door behind me.  

"He's coming your way. Are you out?"  

Now I shifted into panic mode. I stood there, chip in one hand, and the other gripping my bin. I glanced at the staircase beside me, and instantly rushed to it, closing the door gently behind me.  

I take my earpiece out and try to guide my heavy barrel of trash down the steps one by one and when I hear his steps walking towards Four's door, I can hear him jerking the knob, trying to get in himself.  

Regardless, I continue dragging my barrel down until I finish the flight of steps. I stumble a bit and clutch onto the railing, the barrel making it down the last step but stopping hard on the platform.  

The stairway door swings open and I see Eric craning his head, beaming down to get a good look on me. His gaze is fixated, and remind myself that I was never a good player when it came to cat and mouse.  

"Why are you in the staircase?" He asks, taking slow and hard steps towards me.  

I smile and run my hands through my hair to mask my nervousity and try to think of a good lie.  

"I was waiting for the elevator on 3 but some jerk kept stopping on every floor." I tease, though he doesn't know that I've had an eye, or ear, on him the whole time. 

- 

Evelyn curiously looked through the files and turned to me, Jules, and the rest of the boys.  

"This is serious." She spoke.  

"What is it?" Jules asked, not once looking from his laptop.  

"They want to get rid of us. And I don't mean moving."  

"So what does that mean for us? What does that mean for everyone back in the headquarters?" 

"What are we supposed to do?" I asked.  

"We need a plan." Noah spoke, adjusting his glasses.  

"No, we just need an army." His twin rebuttled.  

"I say we have a little talk."  

"A talk?" Raul asked, his face turning up in disbelief. "These are the people willing to get rid of us and you want to talk?" 

"Reason with them to see if they're truly on their side, tomorrow," Evelyn explained. She turned to face me, and looked me dead in the eye. "And you're coming with me." 

It's quiet for a moment before Jules begins to speak. 

"Who's side?" 

She carefully removed the chip from her tablet and set it down on the desk.  

"Erudite's side," She spoke. "But you have to get this chip back to whomever you took it from."  

"From Four." Jules spoke, handing the chip back to me. I carefully tucked it into a cloth, shoving it into my pockets.  

"Four?" Evelyn spoke, confused at the name.  

"Well yeah, Tobias Eaton."  

We all watched as Evelyn's face dropped, though we couldn't figure out exactly why. A pained look grew on her face, and I could see her eyes well up with tears. Neither of us spoke, shocked at her sudden change of emotion and watched as she opened her mouth.  

"Tobias Eaton is my son." 

- 

These clothes reminded me of the type Dauntless wear, and I instantly feel powerful. I'm not used to form-fitting things or leather jackets, but Evelyn graciously allowed me to take from her small wardrobe, just this once.  

Standing beside her, I'm able to carefully notice her beauty, an air of mystery about her on her delicate features. The stares we receive when coming in are stares that I'm not used to. Usually when "working" as a janitor, I never paid attention to the looks people would give, because there weren't many of them. I was just the janitor, and the reminder of what they didn't ever want to become. But now, with Evelyn by my side, I notice them because it's no longer just two or three catty girls in the halls, it's fifty Dauntless members, ready to lift us up and toss us away at the very first chance we get. That was the scary part.  

We make it into Dauntless and get stopped at the door by two men wielding guns. They both look serious, but not as serious as Eric does, and I can't help but wonder if he'd assist us with the meeting, if granted one. 

"Why are you here?" One of them asks, narrowing his eyes. His intimidation tactic doesn't work, and I automatically think he's from Amity, forcing on the meanness, while still packing on the genuine fearlessness. 

"I need to speak to Four." Evelyn speaks slowly and clearly.  

"He's busy, why?" 

"I need to discuss something with him."  

I'm silently standing beside her, and I'm praying she doesn't state that Four is her son. Faction before blood, and I'm not quite sure how this would turn out if they knew. 

"When discussing matters between different...factions...you have to go through Max, the head of Dauntless."  

I can tell Evelyn is frustrated that she's unable to see her son, but at this moment I doubt it would be a proper time to reprimand her son on his possibly forced views of the Factionless.  

"Perfect." She says, turning around and feigning a smile to me.  

 

We were escorted inside, something I hadn't thought about, while I mentally reprimanded myself. Under my tongue, the chip is hard and cold, like a pebble. We're waiting for the elevator, and as soon as it chimes, the doors sliding open with people exiting, I turn to one of the guards.  

"I have to pee." I say curtly. Evelyn, confused with my sudden change of plot, furrows her brow.  

One of the guards scoffs, and I'm suddenly being directed to the ladies room. I head to the stall and sit there, completely clueless as what to do with the chip in my mouth.  

I removed it from my mouth, saliva following, while I contemplated flushing it. But I don't. Instead, I tuck it into my bra and listen to the sound of other footsteps in the stalls. Outside the door, I open it slightly, seeing the guard away from the women's room, but near enough.  

Behind me, a couple of girls are leaving the stalls, watching me and my peculiar look.  

"You alright?" one girl asks, washing her hands.  

Time to shine... 

"Peachy, but my stomach's about to explode." I speak, holding it and kneeling on the sink, groaning. The two girls don't wash but merely rinse their hands as they quickly rush out the bathroom, and I grin to myself.  

I walk to the door, kicking it to get his attention, and quickly crouching on the toilet as he knocks.  

"You alright in there curber?" 

It's a couple of seconds before he carefully walks into the bathroom, glancing briefly to see if there are any feet visible. I'm staring at the crack between the door and stall divider, and when I see his face come closer to the unlocked stall, I kick it with much force, having the door hit him in the head, knocking him out cold.  

I successfully make it on the empty elevator and press the 8 button and hold my breath once it stops on 6.  

I anticipate seeing anybody but Eric as he walks on the elevator, not once looking up from his tablet.  

"Hey." I say, attempting to be polite just this once, though he gives me one look and turns back to his tablet.  

"No fancy dress ball today?" He dryly teases while I stand there, feeling foolish for even bringing attention to myself.  

"Not today." I try to joke back, feeling my heart pounding in my chest.  

As we move to seven, passing it briefly, the elevator comes to a stop, the doors opening and revealing pure brick, and no exit.  

Staring at the walls, I turn to him.  

"What happened?" I ask.  

"What do you think happened, we're stuck." He spoke, walking over to the buttons and pressing the emergency stop. Expecting to hear someone communicating on the opposite end, he backs away frustrated when he's greeted by pure static. 

"Goddamnit! I have a meeting." Eric spoke.  

I look over at him, a bit curious as to where and what meeting his was attending.  

"With the Factionless?"  

"That's none of your business." He spat. 

"Well I was supposed to be there, too."  

Eric scoffs and looks at me.  

"But you're a janitor."  

"Not anymore," I shake my head. "I'm Evelyn's assistant."  

For the first time in all of our run-ins, I see him crack something close to a smile, but not quite, and as soon as it came, it quickly disappeared.  

"You actually believe that's some sort of power position?" 

"Is everything about power when it comes to you Dauntless?" 

"It's not for the Factionless?" He asks, tauntingly. I glance over at him and the corners of his mouth are slightly curled up in a challenging half-grin, though I turn my head and pay him no mind.  

 

About an hour passes, and I feel like a failure. Had I not just gotten on the elevator with Evelyn, we could potentially make some sort of progress in this meeting. I'm hot, tired, and hungry and sitting on the floor, trying to relax while Eric stands in the far corner.  

Not once did he attempt to sit down, or look up from his tablet. And all the while, he looked tense and uneasy. But while he's in this state, tapping furiously and hard, I get the opportunity to look at him, even for a second, and I see that from this angle, he's not as intimidating. If I could always see Eric from this angle, I'd be far less intimidated, I believe.  

Well, until he opens his mouth. He must know this, but then again he doesn't exactly seem like the type of person to stress about their looks for long.  

After a couple of seconds, he looks down, noticing me staring and I quickly lower my head in embarrassment.  

"Did you manage to contact anyone?" I ask, though I can tell he's still looking. I'm praying he stops, for the sake of the awkward tension between us, but curiosity overpowers me. I look up, and he's still looking at me, and I'm questioning what he's thinking.  

"My message isn't sending." He speaks, sighing and putting his arms down to the side.  

It's quiet for a moment, and he reaches over to the emergency button, this time getting static mixed with some words. The person on the opposite end tries to speak, but their words aren't audible enough.  

"We're stuck in between the 6th and 7th' floor!" Eric yells, while I scoot away from him and to where he was standing. "Hello? Hello! Damnit."  

His forehead has beads of sweat, and I'm wondering if something else is wrong other than us missing the meeting. Once he catches me looking at him again, he balls his fists up.  

"What?" He snarled rather loudly, but I'm not phased. Instead, I raise an eyebrow and shake my head. 

"You should sit down and relax, if you're familiar with the term." I lightly jab.  

"I am relaxed." He muttered under his breath, though I can tell he's uncomfortable. I stand up, and walk towards him, feeling for the tissue I had earlier in my pockets, and handing it to him. For a second he stands there, looking from me to the tissue and then back to me. Seeing his face like this, sweaty and glossy, makes me just as uneasy to watch him as it is to be next to him.  

"I don't need it."  

"You do." I nod. He takes one more glance, and I can tell he's considering it, but He turns back to his tablet, pressing any random button and getting nowhere fast as I watch.  

As I stand, watching as his tablet freezes and the frustration rises. His lips begin to purse, and I can't help but laugh at the misfortune.  

"Oh that's funny to you?" He snaps. 

"Slightly." I agree, cocking my head to the side, innocently looking at him. 

"You know what else is funny?" he asks, lowering his arms. Before I could get the opportunity to answer, he speaks once again. "The fact that Max completely disagrees with the alliance between the Factionless and Dauntless."  

Though this isn't news to me, I can't let him know this. I cross my arms in front of me, looking at him intently, hoping to squeeze the bit of information we need to help come to agreements for ourselves, with or without their help. 

"Why?" 

"Up until today we had nothing to do with Factionless. And now today you want us to be loyal to you without you useless Curbers doing anything for us?" 

His words sting, and I'm unsure whether he's saying all this because it's true or if because he's upset due to confined spaces. Either way, I'm trying my best to hold my tongue. I head back to my comfort zone, the corner and lean against it.  

"What more do we have to do than ask for our lives to be taken into consideration in this society?" 

Eric's quiet, but his face is still showing anger and disgust. I watch as a bead of sweat fall from his forehead, down the side of his face, and dripping onto his shirt.  

After that, I decided I had no more words for him. 


	5. Night Owl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The first half of this chapter (location: The trade market) is seen through Eric's perspective. The rest is purely Samiyah's/Milos's.]

 

The trade market is crowded today, with nothing but various factions all gathered and making rounds like usual. I should be helping, but then again did they really need it to begin with? I've trained them well, and there's still room for improvement, even with the highest ranking. Speaking of such, I see her, and she's carrying a bag of grains, and in another hand, a box of gun parts. She's strong, fast, and a perfectionist to an annoying degree, though she's not as amusing to watch as those that fail. She never makes a mistake, never lets her guard down and the more I point out her characteristics, the more I wonder whether or not I'm describing her or myself. 

Recovering from yesterday's mishap in the elevator wasn't as tough as it normally would be, but I hated that I had something called fear dangling over my head. To me, fear equated to weakness, and I knew that it was a major setback, and I couldn't let that show ever again. When I had gotten out, a few initiates and some pals looked on, questioning why I had gotten so sweaty with just a short-sleeve on and a vest while the Curber beside me was perfectly fine in her long-sleeve top and jacket, which she later put on. Did I really owe them any answers?  

Not a single one.  

A Dauntless girl, huddled together with her small group of girl friends are talking. They're younger than me-- I can tell, but most importantly, I could tell they were wasting the day. Slowly but surely, I walk over to them, my chin up and hands behind my back as I approached them, and when seeing me, their faces ran pale. 

"I'm assuming you've finished your rounds?" I question. I don't really expect an answer, just for them to move away, but they're planted with fear. 

"We didn't know where the armory was." One of them spoke. She has tattoos on her neck, all soft. Nothing but hearts and birds. Nothing thick or taunting, and I instantly believe she's from Amity.  

"Well then I guess you better go find out."  

If it's one thing I detested, it was passiveness, or people who sat back and let others do their job for them. Did they not know that being in Dauntless wasn't just a cool title? It held responsibility. And if they couldn't keep up, well then the choice was simply, if it really was a choice at all... 

I watch the girls pass by, to which they reveal to me, in plain sight, the Curber from days ago. She's leaned against a building, dressed in all black, and I wonder what she's doing here. I didn't see Evelyn or any other Factionless around here, so what gave her the right? She's talking to a Stiff, and the way he looks at her, I can tell something is there while for her, it was blank.  

Her mouth was going a mile a minute as she spoke to him, almost seemingly desperate and pleading. I watch as she quickly looks around, taking something from her inside jacket pocket and handing it to him. He begins to open it, and right when he starts, she places her hand on the piece of paper, lowering it, and he puts it away. From behind him, a woman approaches him, apparently his mother. She's dressed in gray, and gives a brief 'hello' to the Curber before turning around, her smile fading instantly. 

What's up with that? 

The Curber begins moving towards where Amity is, and before I even process where she's going, I find myself walking in her direction.  

"Got a little Stiff boyfriend?" I call out, a slight smirk on my face. She turns around to see me, and boringly turns back around, minding her own business.  

Aw, that's no fun. 

I'm taller, so I reach her before she can get the chance to move away, and end up stepping right in front of her.  

"Did you hear me?" 

"Hear, yes. Listen, no." She speaks, nudging past me.  

"Feisty today, huh?" I ask, getting a bit of a rise out of it. I see her approaching an Amity girl, and from behind, I'm ready for her to hand me one of those papers of hers. Not to my surprise or anything, the Amity girl takes it, nodding and smiling much more genuine than her boyfriend's mom was.  

"What's that?" I ask.  

"Why do you care?" 

"I don't," I admit with a shrug. "I'm curious." 

"Surely you can find better things to do with your time?" She asks. Her annoyed expression is almost laughable. This little woman, so full of spunk suddenly, was entertaining to be around. 

"Plenty of things, but those are actually worthy of my time." 

"And yet here you are, giving me all of it."  

She's on the move again, and my legs follow, unsure what to say, for once. But why? 

"I'm not-" I begin to say, though she cuts me off, stopping short in her tracks.  

"Wait, do you hear that?" She asks, holding her hand up. There's nothing unusual about the sounds, just the hustle and bustle of another day's work, and I'm wondering what she's hearing that I don't hear. "It's the sound of me not caring." 

Her methods of trying to annoy me are working, and I'm conflicted on whether our attitudes to each other are for sport or just progressively getting worse. Either way, I feel it has something to do with our conversation in the elevator, or the fact I yelled at her. Maybe even both. 

Big deal. She'll live. 

I watch her walk and once again I'm following behind her. I _will_ find out what she's up to. 

She's ahead of me a bit, and I can see her call out to two Amity girls walking towards her. They approach her with a smile, and as I near I can hear her voice rise a few octaves. Her tone is sickeningly sweet, but with it and her briefly kind nature, she has them hooked and wrapped around her finger.  

"Can I have one, too?" The other girl asks. 

This is my chance. 

I make my way behind the Curber, watching closely and as soon as she takes it out of her inner pocket, folded and pure white, she hands it to her. 

But I'm quicker.  

I reach over, snatching it from out of her hands, causing the two Amity girls to jump. With an accomplished grin, I begin unfolding it while she's jumping at me to get it from my grip.  

She grabs my free hand, and I'm instantly stunned by the texture. Soft, warm and small, unlike mine; bigger and callused.  

It's difficult, but I try my best to open the note without her lunging and jumping up to me, perhaps the highlight of my day.  

"Give it back, asshole!" She growls. Eventually she's clawing my clothes, and I take one look and see the pain in her eyes as she tries to retrieve it. And it's no longer game anymore. I'm not having as much... 

I lower my hand, and she snatches it out, tucking it back into her inner pocket. Not sure how to react to how upset she looked, I smirk, looking down at the fuming person. She's adjusting her clothes, and tucking some curls behind her ear before they pop out once more from its volume.  

She's looking at the people around us, and when I turn my head, theirs do so as well, returning to their duties.  

If I wasn't mistaken, I was sure that the redness in her eyes meant she was about to cry, but all I could do was stand there.  

"Tough it up." I spit.  

Why? Why did I say that.  

Without looking at me any longer, she's off. Spotting Evelyn, she makes her way to the truck, picking up two large sacks of grains and wheat with ease, tossing it on her shoulder.  

I'm impressed. 

From where I stand, I can see Evelyn placing her hands on the bags of wheat, though I'm sure she wasn't asking for assistance, for she looks at me. I lift my chin, staring at Evelyn and the Curber with her back now facing me. Evelyn concedes to our unfriendly staring contest, and walks off while all I do is watch.  

\-- 

The night air was chilly and the city was quiet. No lights were on, and everything was just dead. Tonight I passed a few homeless Factionless members, and I'm reminded of why I'm out here, though it's not easy to forget.  

I peep around the corner and see a few Dauntless guards, their backs turned to me. They're in a small conversation, but it's nothing worth be eavesdropping about. Instead, I pull my duffel bag on my shoulder and sneak past them and make it to the dark building that I had spread the word about. 

From the side, I saw no one, but making my way to the front, I saw them. Even in the dark, the Amity dresses were still so bright and colorful and upon seeing me, their faces light up. I can't help but feel some sort of unity between these people. People I hardly even knew. Among the faces, I see Keanu, and he's with one other Abnegation member, though he looks exceptionally terrified to be out here at this time. It was dark, but it was only eight.  

I walk up to them, my hands slipping into my back pocket, speechless. It's a small group, but starting out small was better than starting out with no one at all. Even if I didn't persuade these people, I knew Keanu would show up. And while the message may not be spread thoroughly with just him, I knew he'd be there to listen. But tonight, my voice would be heard.  

"This way." I speak, entering into the abandoned building. It smelled a bit of rust, and it was quite dusty. Upon entering, a few joiners coughed, but soon got used to it. We make our way down to the basement where there are tables and a few chairs sprawled about. A place one forgotten after the war has now come in handy for our Factionless revolution.  

I instruct all of them to take a seat, and with about twelve eyes on me, I begin speaking. 

"As you've seen on the flyer I distributed earlier, I was talking about things that were very important. The Factionless are in danger, more so than we've ever been. Whether it's by disease or by force, we are certain that Candor, Erudite, and Dauntless may be following steps to make sure we're exterminated. For good. That's why we need to spread awareness. I'm speaking to mostly Amity and Abnegation because of your known helpful nature, in hopes that we could receive an alliance. We can't do it on our own," I speak. I can tell I have their attention because they're sitting there, and their eyes haven't left me since we got here. I know I have them. "Four years ago, I met two people who helped me cope with being Factionless, and we called ourselves a family. They became Factionless through mistakes made at work, and through a choice. I lost them both recently due to medical complications, and other Factionless die as well from exposure."  

I set my duffel bag down on the seat next to me, open it, and take out a pen and a piece of paper.  

"We work but we don't receive a wage. We're paid in food and clothes, and both are often times scarce. And it's because there aren't people in this society who care about us," I explain. "I'm not asking for much, I'm not asking for money. But I am asking for signatures so that perhaps we can contact your Faction leader and come to some sort of agreement."  

A few questions were asked, including about my credibility which I told was something I could not share. But when Keanu heard about Mama Beth and Papa Joe and offered his condolences, that was enough for Amity. I was glad it took so little for them to trust that I was onto something, but I couldn't help but think that if they trusted and believed me so easily while telling the truth, would they easily believe and trust those who spread lies? 

The rest of the people began talking about what was just discussed, and Keanu approached me once more as people signed, some offering up signatures, and placing their faction house on the side.  

Keanu walked over to me, rubbing my arms as he looked at me. Discussing Mama Beth and Papa Joe was easy to me, but I did so without putting too much thought into it. It was short, and helped get my point across, but at this rate I had no interest in thinking about them. I was too focused to allow myself to get emotional. 

"You want to come over?" he asked.  

I scoffed, looking at him.  

"You know I can't do that."  

"I can sneak you into my basement for a day."  

I think about it and realize that it would raise eyebrows if anyone sees, so I turn down the offer.  

I watch as the last few people line up to sign the petition, and as soon as we're almost done, I'm distracted by a flashing light coming from the staircase we traveled from.  

"Don't move!" Some guards shout, though they're far.  

I turn to the listeners and snatch the petition from the table.  

"Lead them straight to the back and go to the right, it's an escape. Go." I tell Keanu as I rip part of the petition off the paper and tuck it into my jacket.  

Some guards are trying to chase after them, but are stopped when a tall man commands them to.  

It's hard to see, and the flashlight is being shone in my face, but from the voice, I instantly know who it was. In the dark, I can make out him putting something in his pocket, and I'm curious as to what it is. 

Eric walks up to me in the dark, and I can see the shadows of his face from the moon that shone in through the window. My heart's beating, but not because I'm afraid, but because I'm now completely convinced that I'm being tracked down by him.  

"What did you put in your pocket?" he asks. 

"What did you put in yours?"  

"I asked you first, Curber."  

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine." I speak playfully though no smile comes on my face. Instead, Eric looks at me and grabs my hands, apprehending me.  

\-- 

Back at his office, it's silent between Eric and I. I'm not sure exactly what he's trying to accomplish tonight, but I know it's not happening. Instead, he's staring me, thinking. His eyes are narrowed and his hand is toying with his bottle lip as he looks at me. He looks like a lion analyzing a million ways to attack, but thankfully does not.  

"How did you even find us out?"  

"Some guards heard you preaching which traveled through the vents leading outside." 

I'm silent, embarrassed that I chose a building with such an easy way to get caught.  

"Want to tell me why you were outside an abandoned building with so many other people?"  

"It was six," I correct him. "And no I don't want to."  

"You know you can get in trouble for sneaking out past hours."  

"If I'm not mistaken, that law is only mandated for those within a faction. I'm factionless."  

"So you don't care that your boyfriend could've gotten into trouble?" He asks, leaning back in his chair now. He looks so cool in the way he toys with his bottom lip, but with tired eyes, all I could really see are his.  

"I'm all I have." I state, matter of factly.  

For a brief moment, he doesn't say anything, only looks. Then, he leans forward with a sigh and folds his hands on the desk.  

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report you to my higher up, Curber?"  

Now, I'm mad.  

"Because I didn't do anything wrong," I state calmly. Though, I suddenly feel the opposite. It's frustration, passion and angst boiling up, ready to explode. "And for the record, my name is Milo. Mi-Lo." I enunciate slowly.  

I quickly stand up, my hands trembling from the anger brewing within. I feel hot, and out of control, like I'm about to lose it. With my hands pressed firmly on his desk, and Eric still fixated on me, I continue.  

"You walk these halls thinking you and every other goddamn Dauntless is so high and mighty for being in this faction, and shame me for working hard and not even receiving compensation. You get to buy furniture and food and things for yourself and I get paid in bread and water, and occasionally a t-shirt. I don't have the same privileges of breaking laws because to society, I'm dead. Another wasted body taking up space when there are twice as many Factionless as there are Dauntless!"  

I didn't mean to shout, but it kind of just comes out. Eric's expression doesn't change, and I don't expect it to. He's speechless and I'm waiting for him to call me a curber or worthless or something. But nothing is worse is than anything.  

"Can I go now?"  

I know I'm not the one calling the shots, but when he raises his hand to the door, I feel like I'm dreaming. Why was he going easy on me, and why was he letting me talk to him any kind of way?  

Inside, I fear what would come next, but I can't take my mind off of how I had just exploded. Before he even gets the chance to say anything, I turn, letting myself out of the office, standing by the door in the hallway, shaken.  


	6. A New Job

Each day that passes, I'm struggling with the idea that I don't know who I am, or what I'm doing or what I want. I feel like I'm drifting, and not in the right direction, or in any direction for that matter. I hadn't felt this way since I became Factionless, or better yet when I was turned in by my father. I feel void, lifeless, like everything is overwhelming and at the same time not worth it, but I feel like I can't talk about personal things like this with The Apple Tree, or with anyone for that matter.  

Most times, they're talking about the latest jam, coming up with new plans for me when Evelyn and I visit next, but now that I no longer "work" as a janitor, I don't frequent the halls of Dauntless much anymore.  

I'm laying on my cot, trying to drown out the sound of another group of people fighting, with a novel in my hands. Though my eyes see each word, my brain doesn't process them. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm not even reading, just holding a book and looking at words.  

I let out a soft sigh, my eyes returning to the top of the page as I begin reading, actually trying to remember where I left off with my story, but it's just not working. I'm too distracted. 

I rest the book on top of my chest, and close my eyes for a moment. Maybe the sound of the grunting gents will help soothe me to sleep. But I'm wrong. Just as my mind starts to clear, I feel something hard hit my stomach, and I instantly sit up. I look down, seeing an apple, and study Jules who's smiling down at me.  

He climbs up, sitting off the edge of my cube, dangling his legs a bit as he looks at me and turns back to the fight.  

"Now this is what I call entertainment." He spoke, pointing over as the men continuously beat each other.  

Not feeling bothered, I turn my head away, trying my best to ignore it all together. Jules notices my apathy and frowns.  

"What's with you?"  

I shrug a shoulder and close my book, setting it on the floor by my cot.  

"I just feel like giving up."  

"Oh what? On Dauntless? Because if you're stuck we can get you situated."  

I look at Jules, shaking my head.  

"No, this isn't about Dauntless or the factions. I just feel like...maybe we're in over our heads about this. Regardless of what we do, the other five factions stand stronger than the Factionless. Even Abnegation is amongst them while simultaneously helping us out." 

"And you feel this way because of the factions, because of Dauntless," Jules speaks. He sees my visibly upset nature. Shifting from the ledge, he stands and walks over to my cot. He takes my hand in his and I instantly think of Eric's, which frustrates me further. "We need you. Not just me, Nick, Noah and Raul. Evelyn needs you. The fate of the Factionless rides on every action and every decision you make. Don't fuck this up for us."  

Jules' grip on my hand gets tighter, and I'm looking at him. He's staring dead at me, and robot-like, not even blinking once.  

"Do you hear me?"  

In the back of my mind, an image of Mama Beth flashes, and I flinch a bit, taking my hand from his grip and resting it in my lap. Afraid that I was just being sensitive, I turn away from him and focus on my now throbbing hand.  

"Alright." I agree silently.  

Just as the fight starts to get ugly, two armed guards approach them, pulling them off from each other and Evelyn trails behind them. I never even knew the Factionless had arms. Once they're off of each other and ready to cool down, she speaks to both of them, though it's unable to hear from where we are.  

The three of them begin to walk off, but stop once Eric and two guards walk through the doors, looking around.  

"Aw great." I speak sarcastically as Jules follows my gaze.  

"What's he doing here?"  

"How am I supposed to know?" I speak back hastily.  

Evelyn and her guards approach Eric and his men, soon turning around and searching for me. Eric's eyes dawn on me from down below and I give a sympathetic look to Jules, hopping from my cube and moving to where they all gathered.  

"Another visit." Evelyn speaks sarcastically while I make my way over to them all. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm causing so much distress and problems for Evelyn, but I was equally as afraid of stopping. 

"Max wants to meet you." Eric speaks as soon as I stand before him. "Now." 

 

\-- 

Being in Dauntless and escorted by Eric was none too thrilling. The heavy, awkward silence between all of us as we drove, and walked, and reached Dauntless didn't exactly ease my feelings, though I'd have to be intoxicated to even try and rely on Eric for such relief. He didn't even speak with his other members, and it left me wondering if he ever spoke to anyone first.  

I wanted to say something, to ease the tension somehow, but I couldn't. The silence from him actually listening to what I had to say the other night was bad, to me. But the silence here, too? Not even a jab? Not even the slurring of my place in society? Hell, had he even looked at me sternly, I would know he was his old self, but he didn't look at me either.  

Had he told Max about our little talk?  

Walking into Max's office, I see Four standing beside him. Once I'm in, standing by the door, Eric walks around to the opposite end of the long table and stands besides Max. He's tall, though not as tall as Eric and brown. He has a stern look on his face, the kind that I see far too often in Dauntless. Did they all have a stick up their- 

"Milo, isn't it?" Max asks. He cuts me short from my thoughts and I nod briefly, stepping forward.  

"Yes," I speak, outreaching my hand to shake his. "We finally meet." 

"Please, sit." Max offers as we all do. Sitting across from Max wasn't so bad, but keeping my eyes off of Four and Eric was challenging. 

"I hope you know that you've stunned us all." Max speaks, and I instantly feel my heart race. I'm shifting a bit, uncomfortable, as my stomach does backflips. 

Eric obviously told.  

It's hard to speak, and while I swallow, I'm trying to clear my throat. "I-I didn't do anything."  

"What do you mean," Max begins. Confused, I furrow my brow and let him finish his sentence before chiming in from nerves. "We don't usually see brilliant Factionless minds like yours." 

I hold my breath, and instantly I feel like I had just walked into a trap. I'm about to be arrested, or held hostage, or worse: killed. Evelyn and The Apple Tree would have to come down here, and pick up my dead body as the rest of the Factionless continue on without a trace of what these other factions are planning.  

"Why do you need me?" I manage to squeeze out, and from the corner of my eye, I can see Eric scoff. My persona was much different than from when he dealt with me one-on-one. I knew he was getting a rise out of my timidity. "I don't understand." 

"We're willing to recruit you into Dauntless, but working in the Control Room. A job with an actual wage," 

I'm speechless, and not from excitement, but because I'm not sure if I made that part up in my mind, or if Max was actually offering me a position in Dauntless. I can't lie, the idea did butter me up a bit, because as much as I detested the Faction system and the factions who looked down upon us, I still craved that sense of adventure and thrill that I know I would've gotten from Dauntless, had I followed through with initiation.   

"What's the catch?" I ask, leaning forward in my seat. I knew how to play their game just as well as they did, or at least I hoped I did. 

"No catch. Though I do have one question," Max states. I nod at him, signaling for him to continue. "Why the sudden militantism?" 

"Being Factionless for four years, you force your mind to hate the faction system more than you hate yourself for incompetence." 

"And how did you become factionless?" 

My cheeks grow hot as I look back up at Max. Here I am talking to the leader of Dauntless, about to tell him my story of why I couldn't be in Dauntless.  

A wave of embarrassment passes over me and I wish I could crawl under the desk and hide away, but I swallow about 20% of my hurt pride and look him in the eye.  

"I couldn't jump off the train."  

No other words are needed, and Max understands exactly what I mean. I dare not even look at Eric, for I know he's having a field day now. I glance at Four and he's staring intently, no emotion on his face. 

"Four will show you to the Control Room and give you the skinny on what you're going to do there." Max states. 

The men begin to stand, though I remain sitting, and when they realize this, they stop and look at me, wondering what I'm doing.  

"What makes you think I want this?"  

Max smirks, and sits back down briefly, though he's the only one to do this.  

"What's your price?"  

"My what?"  

"Everybody's got one. What will it take for us to get you in?" His pushy behavior doesn't make me want to stay any more than I originally wanted to.  

I hesitate, thinking through a good price range for me, and answering him boldly.  

"Time." 

"Time? A factionless wanting time more than money?" 

"What would you have preferred to hear? Five hundred in cash? Two thousand? Three? I've only just gotten here, and you want to pluck me from where I belong and bring me here? Messy move."  

"How long do you need?"  

"A couple of days."  

Max looks me dead in the eyes, his hands slowly folding on the table in front of him.  

"How about twenty-four," He speaks. Nodding in agreement, he opens his mouth and continues. "Hours." 

- 

"I don't trust it." Noah and Nick speak in unison as I stand in the middle. They're all eyeing me as if I had told them I quite The Apple Tree. I've wanted to, but at the same time I wanted to see change. I wanted things to happen, things to be different between the Factionless and the other five factions.  

"They're bringing her in for a reason. She could get killed." Raul spoke. 

"As if we'll let that happen." Jules spoke monotonously. He was on his usual spot, looking at the cameras. Ever since earlier, my views on Jules had changed. He seemed borderline obsessive with what he wanted, but I merely shrugged it off as perfectionism. But when was that line crossed? 

It's silent for a moment, and everyone else is looking around, unsure what to think. Evelyn stands up, looking at the blueprints on the walls once again. 

"My main fear is that they'll change up your mind. Turn you into one of...them."  

Sighing, I respond to the accusation. "It's a faction, Raul, not a disease." 

"I think it's a good idea. They're keeping her in one spot to monitor her, but they don't know that it's a chance to blend in, especially when we have all this technology," Evelyn starts. "Just keep your earpiece on and activated. That's all." 

Jules turns around for once, looking at me with curiosity.  

"So are you going to?"  

I'm looking at all of them, and they all want an answer. I know that I turn it down and say that I'm uncomfortable, they'll go on a speech about how much they need me to do this. Without further thought, I nod.  

"Yes." 

- 

"It's really not hard." Four spoke as he walked ahead of me. He was fast, not wanting to waste any time as I trailed behind. We made it to the Control Room, a large room with glass windows to see inside. There were monitors on the walls, and people sitting at desks. There were about four of them on each wall, navigating and looking out for all parts of the town, even the Factionless. Now I don't feel so safe with my endeavors.  

Four walks in, a few people looking from their screen to the door, but continuing back to their screens. He heads over to the last seat at one wall, the only wall with three seats, and pats the back of the chair.  

I sit down, and from behind me he's telling me what each control does, how to alert a higher up, and a full report of what was seen throughout the day.  

Being here, Four seemed like the only one with sense or the only one not throwing their weight around by being obnoxious. I appreciated that, but I had wished her were around more, and perhaps we could've been friends.  

 

About three hours passes by and I'm getting antsy. I'm hungry, and my legs are dancing underneath my desk, wanting to desperately get out and go for a walk at least. I hadn't spoken to the rest of my colleagues beside me, though the two seemed more interested in minuscule things like who snuck into the staircase together and who checked out who, and what the "Curbers" were doing, this time. I figured they must get bored here, watching people all day. THey've probably been doing this for weeks, maybe even months, and here I was on my first day, already bored and wanting to explore.  

After two minutes, I decide I can't take it anymore.  

I stand up from my seat, and it’s the first time my desk mates acknowledge my presence since Four dropped me off.  

"What are you doing?" One asks.  

"I'm going to take a walk." 

"No, you have to watch your panels."  

"Aren't you watching the same ones as me?"  

"No, you're assigned panels 11-20." He corrects me. Now, I get it.  

I sit back down in annoyance and continuously flip through the panels with at least 10 second intervals.  

"Bro, come check out panel 10!" Says the one beside me to our desk mate.  

His friend scoots over a bit, chuckling as they both freak out and watch what's going: A spar.  

I shake my head, turning to panel 11 which was located also inside the arena, noticing Eric walking slowly towards the fight seen clearer in panel 10. He's intrigued, but when he gets bored, he turns away with something in his hand that I can't exactly make out.  

I look down at my board, zooming in a bit and watching as he made his way over to a female initiate, handing her more knives once he sees that she's run out. From what I could tell, she's very good, probably the best in the class which is why Eric's showing so much attention to her.  

Rolling my eyes, I watch them while the two boys next to me become more engulfed in their front row view of the fight.  

From the panel, I watch as Eric gears his arm back, tossing the knife with much force and making the target right in the middle, whereas the initiate hit the target around the bulls-eye. A few of her knives fall to the floor at the force, and I can't help but shake my head. 

Just who did he think he was? Mr. Tough Guy, eh? As the initiate throws another, this time missing for the first time, I'm assuming, he carefully watch while he places his hands on her arms and the other on the middle of her back. When she hits the target again, she hits right beside Eric's knife, resulting in him giving her a proud pat on the back. I can't help but feel slightly envious. Why was it so hard for him to show kindness to me? Why? 

I swallow hard and turn from panel 11 to panel 12, only showing the Pit in its usual business, and let curiosity overcome me as I turn back to 11 to see Eric once more though before I get the chance to look at him, a loud buzzer beeps once in the control room, and I stand up.  

"What's that?" I ask in panic while my desk mates look at me.  

"Lunch, ever heard of it?" They chuckle to themselves, grabbing their jackets and leaving.  

 

The Dining Hall is crowded, and colorless. All you can see is Black...and I fit in with only black jacket I have. I wonder if people recognize me as the janitor and question why I was once picking up their trash and now eating with them. If they question it, I don't blame them, because there's something weird about this whole ordeal. I needed to find out why.  

I see a table in the corner with Four eating by himself. His back is facing the rest of the tables, and I wonder why he's being asocial, so I make my way over.  

When he sees me, he neither invites me to sit down nor says anything. Instead, I choose to make the first move and sit down in front of him.  

"I want answers." I demand, to which he scoffs and looks up at me.  

"What makes you think I'll have them?" 

"I believe you know something," I state. "Why am I here?" 

"Max already explained it to you." 

"I got that, but I want the raw version," I begin. "What does he have planned for the Factionless?" 

Four looks up at me, staring deep into my eyes with annoyance.  

"What makes you think he has something planned for the Factionless?"  

"Why else would I be here?" 

"You'll have to ask him." He replies coldly.  

I'm searching for a response, and when I find one, I push my food to the side, despite being hungry.  

"Your mother is Factionless, Four."  

He stops eating altogether. His jaw is clenched tight and he's gripping his fork. I've angered him, but it's the only way that I can get through to him on a deeper level.  

"My mother is dead." He responds lowly.  

His answer disturbs me and he looks down at his food. He's not eating anymore, but just tossing it around on his plate.  

"Go." 

I grab my tray, standing up and looking down at Four one last time before I leave.  

I'm walking to the other side of the hall, bagging the leftovers. 

"You could've never fit into Dauntless, regardless of whether you jumped or not."  

Of course it's Eric, and rather than entertain the idea, I walk from him, heading to the stairs before I realize he's following me.  

"And why are you so sure?" I ask, standing a few steps in front of him, for once in my time at Dauntless, looking down at him.  

"You're weak. Not just physically, which could be fixed, but emotionally."  

"Thank you for telling me exactly who I am." I scoff, turning around and walking back up the stairs.  

His voice is closer, and I stop on one step, turning around to face him. Still on the step below me, he's a bit taller. I'm questioning why I'm standing here, giving him all my time, but I stop and listen.  

"You're too emotionally invested. You're driven by emotions, and not by power or logic. That's why you couldn't have fit into Dauntless." 

His voice is low and raspy again, just enough to please my ears and send a sweet chill up my spine. And though he's trying to break me down, it doesn't work. Not this time. 

"Having emotions doesn't make me weak. It makes me human. And if your method of power forces initiates to erase all emotions in exchange for a gun, then you don't have an army. You have robots." I spit, turning around and heading up the stairs by myself.  


	7. Panel 4

I think what I hated most about this job was there was just nothing interesting to do. Granted, it wasn't my real job, I just entertained the thought unless I knew further information about what was going on between Dauntless and the Factionless. Yet somehow with The Apple Tree picking at me for information, I was barely able to get any time alone with the demands from my desk mates.  

At lunch that day, I was just about to leave from eating on my own before being stopped by Four. He didn't bring up any word about yesterday's talk, and I didn't want to bring it up either. But still, with the way he looked at me and the answer he gave, I was left to actually think whether he truly believed his mother was dead or not. Perhaps he said it for a reason. And since talking about someone's mother is a sensitive topic, I laid low when it came to him.  

But when he approached me, you can bet I was shocked. What was he going to say? 

"You alright?" He ask softly.  

I nod quickly looking up at him. 

"Yeah I'm fine, I guess." 

"Good, do me a favor and take this to Max?" He asks, handing me an envelope.  

"What is it?" I ask, and he gives me a look. I'm not sure if he's willing to tell the truth or not, but I get an answer out of him some way.  

"It's word on whose parents will and will not show up to visiting day." 

"Initiates need permission on whether or not their parents will come?" 

"No, they're free to do so, but when it comes to initiates who rank in the lower percentile, we don't usually allow it." He explains. He stares momentarily and is off, leaving me to my new duty.  

 

I'm walking towards Max's office and the door is open ajar. I'm ready to raise my fist and knock, but I hear him and someone else speaking; him and Eric.  

"You think he knows she's his mother?"  

"He was told she was dead and he hasn't seen her since he was a kid. Why would he think that?" 

"Maybe he got an idea."  

"He won't, trust me. And before he can even think about it, she won't be around for long."  

I've heard enough and right as he finishes, I knock on the door quickly. As I make my way inside, I'm shaking, holding the envelope in my hands.  

"Uhm, this is for you." I hand over the envelope, while Max puts it on the table. I glance from him and Eric who are both ready to finish their conversation, and I quickly leave, breathing a sih of relief.  

Who were they referring to? And why? Did Four just send me to spy on Max and Eric? Does he really know about her?  

Moving back to my desk, I rush into the bathroom, putting my earpiece in.  

Jules realizes I'm connected and speaks.  

"Samiyah, what's going on?" 

It's so great to hear my own name for once. Everyone's called me Milo for so long, I honestly think that it is my name. Well...for the time being it is. 

"Jules, listen to me carefully." I speak, my back firmly against the door to the empty bathroom. "Is Evelyn there?" 

"No she's at HQ, why?" 

"I don't know what's going on, but Dauntless is planning something big and I think it's against us."  

"What did you hear?"  

"I don't know exactly but it sounded like they were talking about Evelyn being Four's mother, and something about she won't be here long."  

"Don't jump to any conclusions because it'll make it seem like you're suspicious." Jules spoke. 

 

After our conversation, I started down the hall, headed towards the elevator, but stopped dead in my tracks when seeing Eric leaving Max's office, heading the same way. The whole time he walked, I followed at a distance so that he couldn't hear me, and eventually traveled up the stairs behind him. When I heard his footsteps stop, I grew concerned, but then jumping at the sound of the heavy door to the roof closing behind him.  

Trailing behind, I looked out the slight window of the platform, watching as he suited up, retrieving his gun from the locked cabinet, and walking around the top.  

Practice?  

I sneak out and onto the roof, but closing the door softly behind me, and looking around the corner of the shed. It was a bit chilly, though I didn't mind. I never had any intentions of staying long, but long enough to see if I could persuade him to get information out.  

The closer I stepped, watching him kneeling over at the shooting range, I begin to wonder why I'm here. Trying to pry out information from Eric would most likely be useless, but it didn't hurt to try, now did it? And besides, watching him train was rather interesting.  

I made my way over to him, not standing behind him but to the right of him. Still holding the gun, he takes one confused look up at me and turns back to the range.  

"You're not supposed to be up here unless you're-" 

"I know, I know. Unless I'm Dauntless," I finish for him so that he couldn't use his favorite word. 'Dauntless'. "I have a question for you." 

"I don't have any answers." He responds dryly as he stands up, walking away from me.   

"Who were you and Max talking about?"  

"Is that any of your concern?" He asks, turning around and standing in front of a life-size dummy, a black 'X' on its chest where the heart is.  

"It is if I want to know whether you're thinking about getting rid of me or not."  

"It's not my choice if you do or do not stay," He states. He's ready to fire at another target but turns to me briefly. "And for the record, what makes you think we were talking about you?" 

"I just thought...You said that 'she' wouldn't be here long, and I assumed that the only 'she' whose getting a free ride into Max's good graces is me." 

"I suggest you run along, punch your little buttons, and mind your own business." He spoke, putting the safety lock on his gun and returning to the shed. Still nearby, I wait until he locks up the cabinet to begin playing his game.  

He's walking to the stairs, and I quickly run up behind him, flicking him on the back of his neck.  

"Stop." he warns, looking back at me slightly. But I don't stop.  

I flick him again and take a few steps back in case he turned around ready to tackle me. He turns around, visibly annoyed.  

"One more time and watch."  

He speaks, opening the door of the stairs, but before he can get one foot through the door, I'm back with a double flick to the back of his head. 

"That's it." he declares, dropping the door to the staircase. I'm running to try to get away from him, but I'm no match against his stamina. He picks me up and puts me over his shoulder with ease, heading towards the door.  

"Put me down!" I scream, trying to process how I got to this position so fast. He doesn't speak, and he shifts a bit, bouncing me on his shoulder once to get a better hold on me. And the idea hits me.  

I reach for his vest and then his shirt.  

"Don't." He warns me, but he knows better since I don't listen. I'm lifting his shirt, my fingers dancing at his sides, and he stops. For a moment, I can hear him trying to stifle some giggles, and maybe even a laugh, and I curse the fact that I can't witness this face-to-face.  

"Stop!" He calls out in a tired voice. He's forcing himself not to laugh, which makes him want to laugh even harder. Soon, he lowers me to ground and on the side of the cabinet. "Okay, there!" 

But I don't stop. My fingers are still going at his sides, and all of a sudden I forget why I'm even up here, and what I'm doing up here, but in a blink of an eye, Eric has me against the gun cabinet, my wrists fitting in his one hand, holding them over my head.  

He's panting, face a slightly pinker tone than the paleness I'm used to, and his eyes don't seem that cold and serious for a moment. In fact, the position he has me in makes me feel submissive to his dominance, and I can't shake the inane desire for him to just kiss me. You know...just to fulfill the moment.  

"Stay out of it. It's none of your business." He speaks low. His voice radiates from its deepness, and for the first time, I let my eyes trail from his, down to his lips, and when he sees this, he straightens himself, getting closer to me for just a minute and then letting my hands go.  

He makes his way to the staircase, pausing for a minute. He looks over his shoulder slightly, but not directly at me, and before I get ready to follow him downstairs, he leaves without me.  

 

Heading back into the control room after a much needed, and longer break, I came back to my seat. My two desk mates, who were usually rowdy and showing each other ridiculous things they saw during their time monitoring the screens, but this time they were quiet.  

Sitting down, I noticed from my peripheral that they were both watching me.  

"What?" I ask in annoyance, expecting them to turn away, though they don't. They're almost in shock, and when I finally turn my attention from them and to panel 4, I recognize the area... 

The gun cabinet on the roof.  


	8. Ambushed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Last scene in Eric's perspective]

There's something wrong with me.  

Every moment that passes by, I only think that I'm just wasting valuable time in a room, at a desk, staring periodically at screens, when I could simply snoop around just like how I used to. But I had started to get the idea that both were wrong. 

Had I not put myself in this position, I wouldn't be sitting here, watching screens all day. I wouldn't be another branch on The Apple Tree. I wouldn't feel as though I'm letting down Mama Beth and Papa Joe, two people I force out of my mind a couple times a day.  

I constantly wonder what's holding me back. What exactly is keeping me here? Am I scared to leave? Or am I too curious to stay? And then I think about Eric, whom I haven't seen in two days since I attacked him with tickles, and I just get this feeling. I love to dislike him, and I'm wondering if that says more about me than him at this point, but something's present. And I wish it would go away, for the sake of both of our sanity.  

I flipped from one screen to another, bored. Nothing was happening today. Nothing at all. Soon after I find myself dozing ever so slightly in front of my screen, I'm awakened by the buzzer for lunch, and I couldn't be more glad.  

I'm one of the first to head out of the door, and when I turn the corner to head to the elevator, I stop, seeing Eric standing there with his hands behind his back. He's stiff and still, a serious look on his face. When he sees me, we lock eyes, and I'm unsure whether to stop in front of him and ask what's going on, or if I should pass him by.  

Trying the latter, I turn my gaze to the floor, initially thinking he wasn't here for me.  

"Wait." He calls out. Stopping in my tracks, I wait for him to come to me this time. And as he stands before me, I'm tense. "Max needs you."  

I know not to ask any questions, and without another word, he's leading me to Max's office.  

 

It's more crowded than usual with more Dauntless members inside. I can see Four sitting beside Max and other Dauntless gentlemen. 

Max greets me with a grin, and once again I'm on the opposite. The only one on the opposite side.  

I spot one other woman in the crowd, remembering her as Lauren from another time meeting her and sit in silence.  

"We wanted to speak to you about something." 

At this point in the game, I'm no longer surprised or anxious about what he has to say, being that nothing suspicious or alarming has been happening lately.  

I can feel all their eyes on me, and it's distracting. But what's even more distracting is Eric, who is the only one not looking at me, and I begin to suspect he knows something that I don't. They _all_ know something that I don't.  

"We'd like to offer you a place to stay for the night. We need all the workers we can get in the control until 12. You'll have your break now and then dinner, then back to the control room." Max explains.  

This is not good. 

I want to question why they wouldn't just have Eric or another guard drive me back to the Factionless HQs, but I feel that's not my place to question an already "nice" gesture. Would my uneasiness be passed off as suspicion? 

"Just for the night." Max continues.  

And for some reason, instead of getting up and running out of the office, I smile and nod.  

"Yes. That would be nice, thank you."  

 

The meeting is dismissed and my stomach is in knots. I'm waiting by the door afterwards to question Eric, but get pulled away and down the hall by Four, instead.  

"Listen to me, you have to leave or contact the Factionless some way that you can." He whispers. We're stopped from the hall, a good distance from Max's office and the other attendees of the meeting. Four looks greatly disturbed and sweaty.  

"Why? What's going to happen?" I whisper back frantically.  

"I can't say. It's hard to tell for sure but they're making moves, tonight. You have to tell anyone else you know."  

Looking past Four, I can see Eric staring at us, slowly walking in our direction.  

"Eric's coming." I whisper to him, and he quickly looks over his shoulder. Without another word, he turns away shoving past Eric, who turns to look at him and then at me.  

"Well come on, let me show you to your room."  

 

The apartment is smaller than Eric's and just as dark. I assumed that leaders got top priority when it came to their rooms, and Four being the first in his class chose the shabbier choice over the fancier one, unless Eric dressed it up to suit his comfortbility. 

Stepping in, I turn on the lights, looking around at the beautiful space. It isn't so much an apartment as it is a loft, but it's still beautiful because for one night it's mine. My own place. It sounded so strange.  

Not wanting to wait around while I look at everything, Eric decided to speed up the process.  

"Bed is where you sleep, food in the mini fridge, and the shower, pretty obvious." He states, leaving my key on the table by the door before retreating to the hall.  

"See you for dinner?" I ask, calling out to him in the hall. His room is just down the way from mine, and without turning back he speaks,  

"I already ate."  

Closing the door, I instantly head into the bathroom, running the shower and trying to contact Jules. 

"What's going on?" Jules asks seriously once he reaches me. "Wait, are you showering?" 

"No, I'm just muffling the sound because I don't know if they have this room bugged or not but you gotta help me."  

"Room? Were you caught?"  

"Jules listen to me. Dauntless are on their way to Headquarters. You have to move everyone."  

"We have about a couple hundred in the headquarters and the rest are sprawled along the city. How are we supposed to do that?"  

"I don't know but just try. Tell Evelyn."  

"Alright. We'll meet you back here or with Evelyn?"  

Biting my lower lip, I'm hesitant in telling them where I am and what I'll be doing for the rest of the night.  

"I...well they put me in a room."  

"Does it have windows? Are you locked in?"  

"It's a loft, Jules." 

"No, absolutely not. I forbid this. You've gotta come home."  

"But if I leave, they'll know something is up."  

"I expect you back here, Samiyah. Do you hear me?" 

"Jules it isn't that easy."  

"Do you know how to walk?" 

Baffled at the silly question, I respond. "Yes."  

"Then it's not difficult. Get out of there, now." 

This time, for the first time, Jules hangs up on _me_. I can tell he's furious. He gets like that when things don't go his way, but he and I both know I'm not coming home. They're watching my every move.  

Turning off the shower, I come up with a plan. I grab some toilet paper and some tape from a dresser drawer, ready to cover up any cameras that I find, but am surprised to not find any. Perhaps it was just a room?  

They were holding me here for a reason, because they don't want me mixed in with what was going on with the Factionless.  

I wander to the sink in the open kitchen area and turn the faucet handle, though nothing comes on. Poor plumbing? In Dauntless? How odd.  

Or was it really not that odd? These things happen, right? 

Right? 

I'm beginning to think it's a decoy area; that they don't actually intend for me to stay overnight and that I really am going to be caught or killed. Suddenly everything is suspicious to me.  

Why does my wallpaper have tiny little dots? Is there a camera in one? Why does my sink not work? It's fake! Why does my fridge have two cold bottles of water instead of three? One for dinner and lunch but not for breakfast? No water? IN DAUNTLESS? 

I quickly open the door, breathing in the cool air from the halls and rushing to Eric's door, knocking quickly. I'm trying to slow my breathing before he answers, and when he does, he furrows his brow.  

"Yes?" 

"My sink isn't working." 

"Congratulations." He speaks, attempting to close the door but I stop it by pushing it open slightly.  

"Can you help me?"  

He blinks, looking at me for a moment and then leaving his apartment with a slight groan. I watch as Eric gets on his knees, opening the compartment to the pipes beneath the sink, and beginning to turn. From up top I can see the faucet move, but I assume it's because he's actually doing manual work to help get it fixed. He gets from his knees, standing up and motioning to the sink.  

"Well?" 

I reach for the faucet, turning the sink on and jumping back as the water begins spraying everywhere, landing on both of us. The faucet pops off, landing on the floor beside my foot. I'm trying to shield myself from the water, while Eric's screaming, 

"Turn it off!" Which I try to do, but to no avail. 

He gets back down on his knees, turning the water off completely as he stands up, soaked like I am.  

A mixture of thrill, relief and joy overcomes me, and I can't help but laugh at the recent events and even myself for believing I was being watched. How silly of me. 

Eric shoots me a look of annoyance, which looks silly since I'm not used to seeing him drenched and so I laugh even harder.  

"Is that funny to you? I have to go to work soon." He speaks, trying to shake off water from his arms.  

I roll my eyes with a smirk and turn to the bathroom, taking the only towel given and coming back. I grab his hands, big and cold inside mine, and begin drying them off, working my way up his muscles and to his shoulder, repeating it with the other arm.  

His eyes are on me, and I know for sure that he's confused at my nice gesture after nearly a month of bickering and picking on one another.  

"Would it kill ya to smile for once in your life?" I ask, glancing up at him as I continue to dry his arms. I don't know why he's letting me touch him, but as long as he doesn't swat me away, I intend on continuing.  

I ball the towel up, patting his face dry as he stands just as still and statue-like. For once, his features looked kind and subtle, and not tense and angry. His hair wasn't in its usual neat fashion, but rather flopped to the side from the water. I liked seeing him like this; calm. I wonder when's the last time someone was gentle to him and if he's gentle to himself, most importantly.  

Just as I feel as though the gap between our faces slowly start to close, his hand reaches mine, and lowers the towel. The touch send goosebumps rushing to my skin, chills up my spine, and again I have the intense urge to kiss him. How does one make the first move when it comes to Eric? 

I watch him closely as he slowly backs up, his hand letting go of mine, and without a word he turns and heads out of the door. 

\-- 

(Eric) 

It's nearly desolate aside from the few Factionless members laying dead on the ground and the sound of our men moving around the headquarters. It was a quick fight, or not even a fight at all, but I had expected more people. Where had they gone, and why were few left here to defend the headquarters if no one was here at all?  

Holding my gun, I'm standing by the front entrance, the trucks outside and loaded with back up just in case they found the rest of the hundred other Factionless who belonged here. And still, something about this mission made my stomach turn.  

I watch as a few of my men come back from searching the area and perimeter.  

"All clear, sir." An initiate speaks.  

Good.  

"Alright then, let's move out."  

It's almost a breath of fresh air but all so strange and confusing at the same time. Where could hundreds of Factionless be?  

I get back in the car where Max is looking at the control room cameras from inside the vehicle.  

"No one?" he asks, looking back at me.  

"Few, hardly any. Just about seven or eight."  

"You think the girl knows?" One of the guards seated behind me asks.  

"Impossible. She was in her room when we left. She went to the control room, and now she's back in hers. Look."  

Max replays the video footage of her walking in and out of her room and then to the control room, just as she was supposed to do. At sight of her, I reminisce the feeling of the cotton towel being gently rubbed along my face as she did earlier. Unsure of how to feel, I push the screen away, causing Max to chuckle.  

"Boy you do hate her." He states. The car begins to move, and I want to tell him I don't, but it's not place. I can't confirm nor deny feelings that I haven't thoroughly thought out. Matter of fact, why did I even have to? 

The ride is brief yet boring. There was no action late at night, but the missing number of Factionless was the topic of our conversation.  

"I wonder what Jeanine will think about this." Max scoffs. 

We exit the car, though I'm surprised to see one already here and parked. Probably some dumb initiates going joy riding when learning that there weren't any Factionless around. Heading back into Dauntless as the rest of the cars pull up. From the others, I could hear them groaning.  

"Thought we could kill some Curbers today." One spoke, pretending to shoot his gun into the air.  

I'm glaring at them but they hardly even notice in the dark, either that or they just didn't care.  

"I bet that little bitch knows something. And when I get my hands on her-" 

"You'll do what?" I speak up. They both turn around, their smirks and grins subsiding at the sight of me. "Another word like that, and I'll have you kicked out of Dauntless with the rest of the Curbers, wherever they are."  

Not my best threat, but it's enough to get them to quiet down for the moment, but once we're inside, they're dashing through the halls, pretending to shoot each other while I pretend not to care. Why do we give children guns? 

I make it to my floor, heading to my apartment before I stop, hearing something from across the hall. It's desolate with other residents either inside asleep, or out. But what surprises me is when I turn around, seeing her door open ajar; Milo's.  

Something's not right. I take a few steps towards the door, kicking it open and seeing three masked men, whom I assumed were Dauntless, trying to hold down Milo on her bed. She's gagged, screaming and trying to fight back, but when seeing me, one hurries the other.  

"Shoot her up! Shoot her up!" The boy pulls out a syringe, injecting Milo so that she's now sedated. I manage to tackle him to the ground, getting the nearly empty syringe out of his hands, injecting him in the neck.  

One down.  

The others come for me, and I wrestle one to the ground while the other is clawing and scratching at me. My fists are bawled and with one swift punch, the one below me is out cold while the other is knocked backwards by the jerk of my arm, ready for his, next.  

I grab him by the collar, slamming him against the wall.  

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't fucking kill you right now."  

My speech is pointless, because just as he's trembling with fear, I punch him, too, letting him drop to my feet.  

I'm panting, looking around at all the out cold bodies, and my eyes turn to Milo.  

She's hurt with some bruises on her arms, but she's out cold in a bathrobe. Her hair's still wet from her sink fiasco, but she looks peaceful. I sit on the edge, tapping at her cheeks for her to wake up, but she barely budges. Removing the cloth from her mouth, I pick her up bridal style and head out the door. A few people passing by notice this and I'm almost tempted to snap once more but I don't.  

"Get Max. Tell them he's got three problems in room 716." I speak, kicking my already unlocked door open, placing her on my couch. The way her limbs refuse to stay in one place makes her seem almost lifeless, but I'm relieved upon checking her pulse.  

I find it almost sinful to take my eyes off of her. She doesn't know how to fight, and I feel some type of sympathy for her. To be ambushed while sleeping and not knowing how to defend yourself?  

Horrific to her, confusing but doable to me. 

A few curls are resting on her face that I carefully push away, and when I touch her skin, I instantly pull away. Her features are delicate and almost surreal. The same girl who told me off, constantly retaliated when I took jabs at her, and looked as though she despised me was laying in pronounced beauty, on my couch. 


	9. 'Mom's' The Word

There's something almost peaceful as soon as I woke up that morning. I felt comfortable where I was, and it almost felt like home. I was awake, but I kept my eyes closed, not willing to wake up and realize I was just in my Dauntless bedroom for one night before I had to get up and go.  

But wait, where are my sheets? 

The sound of a door behind me opens, and I'm instantly confused. The sounds don't match what I know my room looks like. My bed was across from the kitchen, and right nearby my bed was the bathroom, but how were sounds coming from behind me at such a distance? 

Hmm... 

Now I'm almost too scared to open my eyes. 

Where am I? And who's with me? 

The sound of walking travels from one room to another part of the apartment, and I sit up. There's an opening and closing of something and with that, I open my eyes. My vision is slightly blurred and while it takes my eyes some time to adjust, I blink a bit, looking around at where I was.  

Eric's apartment.  

It's all too surreal, and I can't help but laugh a bit, holding my aching head. I close my eyes for a couple of more seconds, expecting to wake up in my bed this time, but when I open them again, I'm still here.  

Freaking out, I get up from his couch, looking down at my body, and over to the kitchen area where Eric was leaned against his counter, drinking milk straight from the carton. Suddenly I don't know what I'm appalled at the most; the fact that I'm in his house with only a robe, or the fact he's drinking milk from the carton.  

He's staring at me, an entertained expression on his face while he watches me freak out.  

"What am I doing in your apartment?" I ask, walking over to him. Before he gets the chance to answer, I'm speaking recklessly once again. "Why am I in my robe?"  

He doesn't answer me, and I'm questioning whether he knows that answer or not. He's quiet, simply staring, and I turn my head to the side.  

"Well?" 

"I think only you know why you're in your robe." He speaks, walking past me and dropping into his sunken living room. 

"Oh my God. Oh my God. I can't believe this happened. I'm so sorry. I just...I don't know how or why I would come over here like this. No...uh, no offense to you of course but it's just that-" 

"We didn't do anything like that." Eric spoke abruptly.  

"Anything like what," I ask, though I'm met with silence. I'm trying to force myself not to smile through the blush, but I feel the utter need to correct myself. "I was talking about how I came over to your apartment in just a robe." 

He's looking at me, almost in annoyance like I had just caught him in an unusual thought. Did Eric think about sex? Of course I knew it was human nature to do so, but with his tough 'work hard, play hard' mindset, you'd honestly think it'd fly over his head.  

He instantly breaks eye contact with me, heading towards his door. He opens it briefly and looks outside. From here, I noticed that I'm not used to seeing him barefoot, or without his vest or any type of jacket. His hair wasn't done, and instead of being in the small quiff, it's slicked back, visibly damp and drying. When he returns from the door, he turns to me, milk carton still in hand as he heads to the fridge, looking inside.  

"What do you want to eat?" He asks. "And don't get crazy, I'm not a chef."  

"I'm not hungry," I shake my head. "In fact I should get going." I speak, heading away from his kitchen and towards the door, though he stops me.  

"Look, you have to eat something."  

"I'll eat what I have in my fridge, Eric. It's not a big deal."  

I turn away from him, walking some more and stop once I hear him call out,  

"It's not safe for you out there."  

I'm shocked, confused, and dazed for a moment, squinting through the throbbing pain in the back of my head. 

"What do you mean it's not safe?" 

"You really don't remember?" He asks, though with my silence he's forced to continue. "Someone tried to hurt you last night. You were drugged, and before they could try to take you away, I stopped it from happening. So you need to eat or else you'll throw up from the sedatives." 

He can see my shocked expression, and quickly wanting to change the subject, he repeats himself.  

"What do you want to eat?" 

My brain is scrambled, trying to comprehend all that happened last night, but I just can't. I was in my robe because of my damp clothes, but then after that all else was a blur, which was frustrating. I felt out of control and out of touch with myself.  

Why couldn't I remember? 

I sit down on the couch carefully and look at him.  

"Uhm, an omelette?" I suggest, to which he merely blinks.  

"I don’t know how to make those. Try again."  

But it's the only thing I'm craving at the moment. Still a bit uneasy from Eric's statement, I head over to the kitchen.  

"I'll make it." I offer softly, ignoring him looking at me and heading to the fridge for eggs and cheese. 

 

Sitting and eating next to Eric was odd. It was hard to comprehend that I was making him breakfast, let alone sitting in his apartment and eating with him. It's a quiet breakfast, and when I notice him scrapping his plate for remnants of the large omelette I made, I cut mine in half, lifting my plate, and shoving half onto his. He doesn't thank me, but I don't expect him to. That's just how he is.  

He scarfed down the remainder, and stood up, holding out his hand for my empty plate. I try to look around his apartment in fascination, even though I've been here before.  

"Nice place." I speak up. "Really...neat."  

Eric once again says nothing. I don't even know why I bother speaking to him. It's like talking to a wall most of the time. And when a conversation is present, it's like speaking to your rival. I hated it, but being around him was almost addicting. Just to have him look at me was enough, but for too long made me too self-conscious. Let's face it, being around Eric had its pros and cons.  

When he finishes washing his dishes, I'm standing by his bookcase, finally getting the chance to look at all his books in curiosity.  

"So, if it's not safe for me in my room, why can't I go back to headquarters?"  

"It's not safe for you there, either."  

"Why? Is Evelyn alright?"  

Truthfully, the look Eric gave was one of hesitation, the first time I've ever witnessed this. And when he opened his mouth, giving a curt, "Yeah." I wasn't sure whether or not I believed him.  

"Then I should go. I wouldn't want you to impose on your living situation." I speak, heading to the door. Eric's behind me, his hand gripping my wrist but not nearly as hard as the way Jules did when I told him I thought about leaving The Apple Tree.  

"You can't."  

"You keep telling me what I can and cannot do and what is and isn't safe for me but you're not giving me any reasons. How am I supposed to trust you when you don't talk to me?"  

Eric gives out a slight sigh, running his fingers through his hair. 

"I don't know what's happening."  

"Bullshit. You know everything."  

"Not with this, I don't."  

I feel as though something's wrong, and needing just a minute alone, I look at Eric.  

"Fine, can you at least get my clothes from the room?"  

Once Eric's gone, I'm searching all through my robe pockets for my earpiece, and instantly put it in. I press it on and when I hear no one reply, I feel alone. Had The Apple Tree abandoned me? Did they think I abandoned them? 

At this rate, I didn’t know whose side I was on. Was I fighting for the Factionless? Or was I being recruited into Dauntless with the promise of trust, shelter, work and food?  

A part of me wanted to believe I was still fighting for my people. But the rest of me was tired of running around. I no longer had this thrill for adventure and with the secrets that I kept, I wanted them to remain as such.  

Pressing the button again, I reach either Noah or Nick this time, and neither of them sound pleased. 

"Samiyah?"  

Oh how good it felt to hear them say my name.  

"How are you? Where is everybody? Where's Jules?"  

"We haven't seen Jules, today."  

"And the Factionless?"  

"They're in the catacombs of the headquarters. There was a big incident last night from what we heard, but we didn't see anything. We were down here the whole time, but Jules went to tell Evelyn and he never came back." 

I can hear Eric's footsteps coming back towards the door and I cover my mouth with one hand and in a brief whisper, I say,  

"Stay safe." And tug the earpiece from my ear just as he walks through the door.  

He has my clothes folded nicely, or perhaps that was me? Either way, he walks over to me, and I pretend to turn all my attention to his bookshelf, even as he's standing beside me.  

"Did you read all these?"  

"No." He mumbled, handing me my clothes, staying beside me. I see the picture of him and who I had once assumed was his mother, reaching for it. "Don't."  

I glance at him and follow his order, but bend down a bit to see it closely.  

"Is that you and your mom?"  

"What do you think?" He speaks sarcastically, looking at the photograph with me. 

"Well," I begin, shrugging a bit. "I think she's beautiful. She looks just like you."  

I look over at Eric and he's staring at the photo, a blank expression on his face.  

"Is she-" I begin, ready to ask more questions about her, but he turns away from me, walking into his living room.  

"Next topic."  

I see that his mother is evidently a sensitive topic, so I decide not to speak about her further.  

Eric walks to his bedroom, grabbing his vest and some socks. He stands by the door, slipping on his shoes, and with one hand on the doorknob he turns around.  

"I gotta go meet with Max."  

"But I haven't showered yet." I speak, walking towards him.  

"I said _I_ have to go meet Max. Not we."  

"Well I have to go to work today, anyway."  

"Not today, you aren't."  

"But-" 

"You won't lose any pay for this missed day. Max understands. Now I've gotta go." He speaks. "Lock the door."  

 

I was indefinitely sure that I was suffering from Cabin Fever after being alone for so long. There was nothing to do, and I was afraid to touch just about anything. If one book were out of line, Eric would probably throw a fit, but I couldn't help my curiosity.  

Perched on the bookshelf was one book that stood out to me amongst all others. It was light pink, almost faded, and thinner than all the rest. Had I not been mistaken, you would think that he purposely placed the framed photo of his mother in front of it, to conceal it from anyone's eye.  

But not mine.  

I gently moved the picture frame, and carefully slipped the book out from in between the other. Holding it in my hands, I opened the cover, looking at the neat handwriting.  

To my Son, Eric 

For all the times that you cannot rest 

or just need something to remind you of home. 

Love You Always, 

Mother- Dina Coulter 

Just as I finish, the door bursts open and there's Eric, standing in the doorway. He sees me, closes the door quickly and nearly runs over to me, snatching it from my grasp.  

"Didn't I tell you not to touch anything?"  

I think about it and shake my head. "I don't recall." 

"Then let me make myself clear," He slams the book closed. "Don't. Touch. Anything." 

He carefully places the book back in between where it originally was and scoots his mother's photograph right back in front of it.  

"So," I ask, willing to change the subject. "What do you do for fun?" 

"For fun?" he asks, kicking off his shoes and heading to his room.  

"Yeah like, do you play games? Or invite friends over?"  

"I see my friends everyday, why would I invite them over?"  

"To just chill out and eat? Drink a beer or two? Just relax?"  

"I'd rather keep to myself, thanks."  

"Oh come on, when's the last time you had social interaction?"  

Eric comes from his room, sitting on the couch with a stack of papers in his hands.  

"Four seconds ago." 

"I mean the last time you let loose? Did something crazy."  

"I'm a leader. It's not in my-" 

"Forget that for just a minute," I speak. I hurry to sit next to him, carefully taking the papers out of his hands. "When's the last time you did something that you liked for yourself?" 

I can tell that he's thinking, but only to really get me off his back.  

"When I arranged the bookshelf in alphabetical order." He smirked sarcastically.  

For the first time, we're both sharing a silly comment together, not when it's directed against the other, and it almost feels nice. Turning away from him, I see the files and hand them back to him.  

"What's this all about?"  

"Hmm, visiting day. It's tomorrow." He speaks, flipping through the files. He pauses for a moment and puts the papers down on the coffee table. He shifts a bit, kicking his feet up, placing his hands behind his head. "What do you do for fun?"  

I haven't really had fun in about four years. The only thing that came close was the accidental water explosion yesterday, but aside from that, no activities were fun or thrilling as I thought they were. Not even being a spy for The Apple Tree. So I think back a little further.  

"When I was in Candor, I uh, there was this game the older kids used to play called Suck and Blow. It's old. Like I'm talking back in the 1990s. And what you do is you suck a piece of paper, and pass it to someone else on their mouth, and you have to pass it around and when the paper drops in between transferring, you have to kiss the person you were passing it to."  

"Wow, I thought you would be into like Truth or Dare."  

"That gets kind of boring after a while." 

"What, the dares?" Eric asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"No," I speak. "The truth." 

 

I never really was the one to disregard my curiosity, especially when it pained me so. Despite Eric's orders of not to touch any of his books, I grew increasingly curious about his mother and why he intended on keeping the pink book a secret. Why hide it in an open space?  

Because to Eric, everything had it's place.  

After Eric had gone downstairs to see what was in store for dinner, he came back with enough for five people. Proteins, vegetables, grains. I could barely eat half of what was on my plate, and once again that day, I gave Eric some of my share.  

But as the day wore on, and I sat in silence just asking random questions to Eric as he looked over the visiting files, transferring it to his tablet where he approved and disapproved some of them, I asked, 

"So how long am I staying here?"  

"Do you feel safe here?" He asked, continuing with his work, not looking up.  

"Yes."  

"Do you feel safe in 716?" 

"Not really." 

"Then there's your answer."  

He was terribly vague, but I don't think he meant to be. It was just his character. And a cynical, vague, sarcastic Eric was better than an Eric who was the polar opposite. I had grown used to him, and even with such a vague answer, I knew I'd figure it out for myself that it was an open invitation to stay on his couch for as long as I needed, or until we fight and he kicked me to the curb, as per my "nickname". Yet, to my surprise, for the first time ever, Eric called me Milo. While it was nice to hear him acknowledge me as other than "Curber", it still didn't feel the same if he had called me Samiyah.  

I wanted to hear him call me Samiyah.  

When he had gone to bed, closing the door behind him, I took it upon myself to retrieve the book and study its contents, and when I had sat back down, reading from the moonlight of his livingroom window, I noticed it was a book of poems.  

At this point, no one could ever try to make me think Eric didn't have any interests besides working. Clearly, at some point in his life, he had a knack for poetry. And his mother knew this.  

The poems were beautiful, often describing pain, and feeling upset, and even describing the sunset flooding the evening sky with the way "making love" felt. Though of course I had to remove a binder that his mother had put on that page that said: "Read this when you're 18+."  

I could tell she had a caring nature, but one that also wanted to keep her child reserved for the sake of his innocence. And to me, I wondered if that helped or if it had a hand in altering Eric into becoming the person he was today.  

Deep in the poetry, I manage to hear something from Eric's room, and I quickly close the book, shoving it underneath me. My eyes are on the door, but I don't see him come out. Instead, I hear what sounds like soft moans or whimpers and soon, the sound of movement. I race from the couch, book in hand, and open Eric's door.  

He's sleeping, but even in his sleep there's a pained expression on his face, and sweat pouring from his temples. He's entangled in his sheets, and his legs are twitching ever so often.  

With my free hand, I'm shaking him and calling out to him, but he's in too deep. He cannot hear.  

"Eric." I speak, tapping the sides of his cheek, and soon shaking him more roughly.  

He wakes up with a gasp, his hand grabbing mine as reflex. He realizes what he's doing and instantly lets go, sitting up in his bed. He kicks the covers off of him, frustrated, while I watch him intently. He's wearing a tank top which is stuck to his skin from sweat, and he's wearing his boxer briefs, but soon after revealing himself to me, he covers his lower half back.   

"You were having a nightmare."  

He swallows a bit, shaking his head.  

"I'm fine."  

I sit on the edge of his bed, attempting to wipe the sweat off with my forehead, as he avoids eye contact with me. Instead, he turns his attention to my lap, seeing the pink book.  

"Again with that stupid book?" He asks, taking it from my hands and tossing it across his room.  

Something in his actions makes me believe his dream was about his mother, and while I'm slightly annoyed by him tossing such a gift, I look down at my hands. He's calming down, no longer panting and not sweating. But I'm sitting beside him in his bed, and he's not kicking me out, so I utilize my time here for the moment.  

"When I first became Factionless, a nice older couple took me in; Mama Beth and Papa Joe. They treated me like I was their own child, even with lack of money or shelter, we were a family. They were beside me, even when I tried to return home to Candor and was kicked out by my family. They cared for me, and as I grew up, four years later, I tried my best to take care of them, but I couldn't. They were old, and lived Factionless for about sixty years. And they died last month," I pause. "I don't know what happened between you and your mother, but my gut is telling me that she's in your dreams constantly, and it's okay and normal to think about her."  

When I realize Eric doesn't have anything left to say, I get up from his bed and head to where he tossed the book, picking it up. Before I leave his bedroom with my hand on the doorknob to close it behind me, Eric's low voice speaks out to me.  

"My mother was killed last year at the hands of a Factionless," The pain is pouring out through his speech. "They never caught who did it."  

Was that the drive he needed to be so nasty to the rest of us? I feel ashamed, knowing that it was my people who did that to her, an innocent woman. The look on his face is nearly heartbreaking. He's neither ready to cry or sob, but he's distressed and visibly disturbed. Forcing myself not to act purely on emotion like he's convinced me of doing so many times before, I search for words to say. Though it isn't much, all I can muster out is a small and soft, 

"I'm sorry."  


	10. Ashamed

There's barely been a word about what happened with Eric the night before, but then again there wasn't much talking, anyway.  

I had treated him to another cheese omelette. One large one for himself, and a smaller one for me.  

The thing I also noticed about Eric was that he wasn't making eye contact much. I started to feel as though I truly was imposing on him. But I didn't have anywhere to go, or anywhere else I trusted.  

His plate is clean within minutes and he's headed to the sink, washing his dish. Just as the night before, he's in his tank top and boxers. With his back facing me, staring is almost inevitable.  

I let my eyes trail from his muscular legs to his torso. His back is muscular and with almost every move he makes, it's flexed. I move to his arms, and though they're not visible at the moment, I remember him picking me up and putting me on his shoulder with ease, and a wave of different scenarios cross my mind of that day. He could've kissed me... 

I swallow the last bit of my omelette and stand up, quietly making my way over to him, handing him my plate.  

He takes it without hesitation and I lean against the sink beside him. He's dead focused on the dish, scrubbing it even when all the grime is off and in a frustrated manner, drops it in the sink.  

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask. 

"There isn't time for that," He spoke, walking past me. I wasn't used to seeing this side of Eric, and I don't think he was used to dealing with these types of emotions in front of someone, before. He's heading to the bathroom, but I catch him before he goes in, and running up behind him, I fling my arms around him from behind, hugging him. His hands don't reach to touch me, but I don't expect them to, and he surely doesn't turn around to hug me back. But when I let go, he simply doesn't turn around, and heads towards the shower.  

\--- 

It was something about the way I hugged Eric, and the way he let it happen, that made it seem like a barrier between us was broken. A month ago, I wouldn't have even dared to touch Eric, let alone fantasize about his muscles and the way my lips would feel against his. It was a growing comfort, and I loved it. It made living with him, even if it were just temporarily, seem that much easier or adaptable.  

Holding my lunch tray in my hand, I look through the crowd of people. Four wasn't around this lunch hour, but Eric definitely was. His back was turned to the entrance, ocassionally looking at the other people who shared the same table as him, but right beside them were a table not nearly as social.  

Walking by his table, I give him a brief look, his eyes meeting mine as I smile faintly at him.  

Now let me be clear here: I was going to the table beside his, however I may have walked in front of him on purpose, just so he could see where I was.  

I almost make it to the table before I'm stopped by one of the Dauntless men sharing Eric's table.  

"Hold up! Come back here!" He shouts to me. I turn around, tray still in hand, and I stand there.  

"Yes?"  

"Did you just smile at my bro Eric?" He asks, a grin forming on his charming face.  

"I did," I nod, glancing at Eric who's steady eating his lunch. "Can I join?" 

Eric lifts his head quickly, looking at me as though I had just asked for eight thousand dollars, and looks at his friends who gladly scoot over, making way for me.  

"I'm David," Says the one who called me over in the beginning. He's bald and the first I've seen at Dauntless with a genuine smile and kind eyes. "This is Jenna, and Curt."  

He introduces me to the other two sitting at the bench with them. Jenna has dark purple hair with random strands of blue, and Curt is platinum blonde, his most distinct and noticeable feature.  

"Milo." I smile slightly.  

"So I take it you know Eric well? Because this is the first time I've seen anyone acknowledge him with a friendly demeanor. Let alone a girl."  

"Oh Eric and I go way back." I tease, looking at Eric with a smile who is quiet.  

"I see, I see. And how far back?"  

"Far enough." I smirk.  

"It's a shame that we're just meeting now." Jenna spoke, a devilish grin on her face.  

"Such a shame, but you know Eric. His private life is private." I speak, beginning to eat a bit of my food.  

"Eric has a private life?" David jokes.  

I'm surprised that Eric hangs around these type of people. They seemed more like my type of friends; the type that liked to tease each other but not in a mean way. The type that liked to have fun and knew when to laugh. Seeing Eric being close with them just didn't fit, to me. But I assumed that there was still a side to Eric hat I hadn't yet unlocked, or perhaps he just enjoyed their company. Nothing wrong with either.  

"Tell us, Eric," David begins. Just by him opening his mouth and speaking, I light up. He's addicting with his charisma, and his voice is enough to set you in a good mood for weeks, but when he turns to Eric, entertaining the idea of his private life, I'm all ears. "Is she your special friend?" 

"Ooooh." Jenna instigates with a grin as she rests her chin on her hand. Wanting to join in a bit, I lean forward a bit, watching as he picks up his beverage, and I seize the opportunity.  

"Yeah Eric, am I?"  

Eric coughs a bit into his cup, his cheeks flushing pink while he lowers it, gaining a few gasps and chuckles from his circle of friends.  

Setting his cup down, he looks me dead in the eye.  

"A word." He speaks, getting up and walking from the table.  

I follow him away from the dining area to where we're secluded by ourselves in a hallway. Once I'm there, Eric's quiet demeanor changes.  

"What the hell are you doing?"  

I shrug a shoulder.  

"Eating, having fun for once?"  

"You call that fun? At my expense?" 

"We weren't making fun about you. If anything they were making fun about the fact that I was kept such a secret, damn near hidden away..." I speak, crosing my arms in front of me. "I don't see what the big deal is. I can make friends with whomever I want to." 

"Great, now try and be a social butterfly with people that I don't associate with."  

He's annoyed, and I feel terrible. Things were going so great, and then all of a sudden they turned sour. Only problem was that I wasn't sure if this was Eric's way of dealing with whatever it was that he was feeling, or if he were genuinely annoyed at me invading his company. But I didn't argue with him. I swallowed, shrugging a shoulder. I walked back over to the table with curious eyes on both Eric and I, and without a word but a small smile, I pick up my tray and walk from the table.  

 

It confused me as to what was going on with Eric. Could the dream still be affecting him? Did I really need to overthink this? Shaking it off, I tried to focus on my panels. I was here for a reason. I had to do my job, to not draw attention to myself, and to just remain cool.  

Touching the buttons and staring mindly at the screen was tiring my eyes, and without hesitation, I stood up, stretching a bit. My deskmates, who I eventually learned were Arnold and Casey, looked up at me in curiosity.  

"I was thinking about taking a walk. I can't really concentrate."  

"So I have to cover for you, again?" Arnold asks, shaking his head.  

"I need the moment to myself." I speak, heading towards the door.  

"The least you could do is get me some cake."  

\-- 

Downstairs, I hear way more people talking than usual. This wasn't exactly a popular time for eating, so to hear so many people was rather odd. Making my way towards the dining hall to get Arnold his piece of cake that he asked for, I see numerous people.  

There are mothers and fathers, siblings and such, all spreading around to see the new Dauntless initiates. And then it hits me; Visiting Day.  

I can't help but smile at them all, though I don't say a word to either of them. Soon, I retrieve a piece of cake for Arnold, and linger just for a moment, seeing Eric standing by, watching. He seemed fine and not as serious as normal. I wanted to make sure he was okay, at least.  

Making my way over to him, he sees me, his eyes now fully focused on mine as I stand in front of him.  

"Hey." I greet him, though he looks down at my piece of cake and then back at me.  

"Hungry?"  

"It's for a friend." I shrug. Struggling to find a conversation starter, I stand beside him, watching all of the people and eventually looking at him. "How are you feeling?" 

I raise a sympathetic hand to his arm, and he quickly looks down at me and then around as if looking for anyone who witnessed this display. 

"I'm fine." he speaks, moving away so that my arm could no longer rest on his.  

I frowned a bit, following him slightly, formulating a plan in my head.  

"And ideas about what we're having for dinner?"  

Eric stiffens up a bit, looking around and then at me. He's tense, and I can feel it in the way he's holding himself.  

"I've always handled dinner. Don't worry about that. Just go."  

"But I was just-" 

"Leave, now."  

Okay, something was definitely up. The way he acted all tense and fidgety around me? It was clear he was uncomfortable with me around, or at least being in public with me. Just thinking about this made me feel really off, and bad. Was it because I was Factionless and his dream reminded him of the fate of his mother? Overthinking got the best of me, and I soon remembered all the times he called me a Curber, and laughed at me or took jabs at me, and all the times he was just rude and nasty. Why was I even caring about what he thought? 

At this point, I was gripping the plate of cake in my hands, almost to the point of folding it, altogether. The more I looked at him, the more irritated I became.  

Without another word, I turned around, shoving past a few people to get back to my desk, where I nearly slammed the slice of cake down in front of Arnold. 

"What's with you?" He asks. I realize this is the first time they've ever seen me upset, and I feel the weight of frustration rising from my chest and out onto my tongue.  

"Can you just eat your fucking cake?" I snap.  

The control room goes quiet with my response, and feeling foolish, I quietly sit down. Though I'm trying to hide my face from the shame, I can see out the corner of my eye, Arnold picking at his cake, eating it happily.  

 

By the time work was over, I dreaded going to Eric's apartment. Just his whole moody ways made it not as thrilling to be around him. I was certain that sooner or later we would have to part ways, but with him being so kind and allowing me to stay with him, I thought that it wouldn't come so fast. But should I have really been that surprised?  

Walking out, I gently reached out to Arnold before he headed on his own way.  

"Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you." I spoke apologetically, to which he cocked his head to the side in slight confusion.  

"You snapped at me?"  

His response made me just as confused, but as I continued to look at him, he gave a faint grin, a wink, and walked away. I took that as his way of saying: 'Forget about it.' 

Reaching the elevator, I stood alone, pressing the button, though jumping as soon as I feel a heavy hand rest on my shoulder. Fearing it was Eric, I turn around quickly, but soon calming down once I realize it's Four.  

"Sorry if I startled you."  

"It's fine," I shake my head. "What's up?" 

"I need to talk to you about something. About the Factionless."  

Capturing my full attention, Four and I head back to his apartment to discuss. I finally felt better knowing that I was going to get some answers.  

"I was the one who moved the Factionless the night that Dauntless planned an attack. Max and Four don't know. Or at least I don't think they know," He begins. "The point is, I need to know what you know."  

Before I decide to lie, I look Four in the eyes and he's serious. Revealing what I knew when working with The Apple Tree would be a major rule breaker, but with my position as a spy now corrupt, what would be better? 

"I found out about something that Erudite and Dauntless were planning something together against the Factionless. And I went back and told Evelyn."  

"But how did you find out?"  

"It's complicated and hard to explain right now." How odd would it be to have him find out that I found all that information while breaking into his room?  

Four walks away from me, and with his back turned I'm able to examine his room from a more calmer standpoint. It was still messy, perhaps even messier than I remembered.  

Four's taking off his jacket, tossing it onto his cot while he turns around to look at me.  

"Max knows something is up with you. He doesn't exactly know, but he believes you know something that you aren't letting on. They're keeping a close watch on you, though I doubt that he has any intentions of hurting you," He explains. Walking over to me carefully, he shrugs his shoulder slightly before speaking up again. "I could get another cot for you in the corner, if you don't feel comfortable sleeping in the room assigned to you."  

"No, no that’s okay," I decline. "I'm actually staying with Eric momentarily. It's brief, though. I don't think I'll be there for much longer." 

He's visibly shocked to know this information, and without even questioning where exactly I'm staying, he speaks up, 

"Has he tried getting information out of you?"  

"No. He actually saved me. Some Dauntless boys were in my room and apparently they drugged me, but I don't remember much of that night." 

Four looks pained, shaking his head quickly at my response.  

"Milo, it wasn't just some Dauntless boys dicking around," He states. "They were Factionless." 

\-- 

On my way back to Eric's apartment, I hadn't exactly realized how long Four and I had spent together talking. He clearly knew about his mother being alive, but for the fear of being watched, he had to lie. He wasn't fond of doing so, and that made two of us. I hated that I had to lie to everyone, to tell everyone my name was Milo and that I was someone I was not. Four knew about me being a spy and understood that I was doing it for a reason. But I wondered if Eric would, too, had he ever found out.  

Entering the apartment with my key, I barely make eye contact with Eric who was sitting on the couch. I didn't want to look at him, neither did I want to talk to him, but when he addressed me with the most insensitive question, I knew what was coming ahead.  

"What's your problem?"  

What's my problem? What's _my_ problem? HE was my problem, and he failed to notice it. I was too tired to think, and definitely too tired to argue, so I knew that keeping my mouth shut would be the best bet. All I wanted to do was fall asleep on the couch, but he was there.  

When he realized I wasn't talking to him, he spoke up once again, this time more cynical.  

"I brought home food, since it seemed like such a big concern to you for some reason."  

"Not hungry." Was all I chose to respond as I began hanging up my jacket and taking off my shoes. Heading to the bathroom, I washed my hands in the sink, almost like a symbol that I was choosing to wash my hands in this entire mess.  

He's silent for a moment, but watching me in the bathroom, he spoke once again.  

"It's ten o'clock. Where were you?"  

I didn't owe him an explanation, but just to get a rise out of him, I walk out of the bathroom, into the livingroom, casually sitting beside him.  

"I was with Four." I confess, crossing my legs as I pick up a book he had laying on the coffee table. I was neither interested nor curious about the contents of the book, but just to get under his skin and make him feel as though he weren't being taken seriously. And despite how much I tried to tell myself that I wasn't mad at Eric for the way he acted and treated me today, I was. I was infuriated.  

"You were with Four?" He asked in disbelief. "For three hours?" 

"Yes. I took your advice and found my own friend. And thankfully he's nice, listens, and come to find out we had a lot more in common than I thought," I begin. "He's the first genuine person I've seen here." 

Scoffing a bit and shaking his head, Eric turns to his tablet in his hands.  

"You're being emotional for no reason." 

And just like that, I'm livid. I'm no longer too tired to argue, and I'm fired up, ready to go. 

"No reason? All day you've been treating me like a fly. Swatting me away, looking at me like I'm just another nuisance to you." 

"Because I didn't want you to frolic around the halls with a piece of cake when you were supposed to be working? I apologize for taking priorities seriously."  

Eric is talking while most of his attention is on his tablet, and I instantly feel as though he's not taking me seriously.  

"You know it's more than just me being away from my desk, Eric. You have a problem and you know it."  

Entertained by my words, he gives a slight smirk, looking at me.  

"Yes, please, tell me all about this problem that I allegedly have." 

My heart is racing and I can feel my stomach dropping from my nerves getting worked up, and from him pressing buttons on his tablet, I instantly feel like my instinct is right: He doesn't care, or could care less. He's completely passive, and it's irritating me further.  

"Okay. First, you bottle up your feelings, and that my friend is a huge problem. You walk around with a chip on your shoulder because you don't allow yourself to feel anything as a way of protecting yourself, or as a defense mechanism. Perhaps maybe even both."  

He's still not giving me eye contact, that same smirk on his face. I fear I'm wasting my time talking to him.  

"You forget that not every emotion needs to be accepted and felt every instant that they come along."  

"I'm not saying that. It's just that...what if you liked someone," I'm trying to stop myself, but it's coming out anyway. "What if you liked me?" 

He finally looks up from his tablet and to me, but instantly turns back to it, his smirk fading quickly. He's silent, so I take it as my cue to continue.  

"If you liked me, you wouldn't be able to tell me because you'd brush it off like a personal character flaw and try to fix yourself instead of actually letting yourself be happy. You'd rather dwell in silent suffering than let yourself live."  

It's quiet for a while, but he eventually speaks up. 

"That's a ridiculous scenario."  

Normally I'd just continue arguing with Eric when he says something that hurt me, but with that type of statement, I give in. He wins, once again. Eric always wins, Eric always says what's on his mind, Eric always gets the last laugh.  

I stand up, heading to the door, grabbing my shoes. He's watching me in curiosity, a good grip on his tablet while I refuse to look at him just yet, due to the tears that were forming. Slipping on my sneakers, I try to get one last word in before I depart, and when I can't get my left foot in comfortably, I stomp, standing up straight and looking at Eric from the front of the apartment.  

"You know what, you're so right. It's ridiculous, and stupid, and there's no way that it could ever happen, because you are ashamed to be around me," I'm sobbing now, talking through tears, and I'm surprised I'm still audible. "And I'm not willing to hang around anyone who feels that me being who I am is some sort of burden to their social status or life."  

I turn around to the coat rack, picking up my jacket and putting it on, fixing the collar as he talks.  

"Where are you going?"  

"Away," I answer quickly. "For the sake of your pride."  

I leave the apartment, my back to the door as I cover my mouth. I wonder if the other residents of the floor had heard us. Or me shouting. But being out of the apartment was both a breath of fresh air and a pain in my heart.  


	11. Changes

Being in this room on my own wasn't as interesting or fun as it was being in Eric's, and I couldn't help but feel lonesome and a sense of regret. I was fully left to believe that it was my fault; this was my doing. The day after Eric and I had the fight, I was leaving for work, and purposely stayed in the apartment an extra five minutes when I saw him leaving his apartment the same time as I was. But he thankfully didn't see me. Had he, I wondered what we would have said, but I wasn't interested in that either.  

It's been five days and he had yet to reach out to me. Even at lunch when his friends would try to get me to sit with them, I turned them down reluctantly. They were such good fun, but not wanting any more problems with Eric, I laid low for the sake of my own happiness. I didn't want to be upset anymore. I didn't want to fight. I've been fighting for four years and now, here I am.  

Realizing that I had feelings for Eric wasn't hard. I wanted him to stop me at the door the night of our quarrel and bring me back in and then we'd kiss. But stuff like that only happens if you have a wild imagination and are lucky enough to live that out in your dreams. And plus, knowing his character, he wouldn't dare make the first move.  

So I sat again at lunch, by myself. By the second day, his friends simply stopped trying and ignored me all together. Was I that forgettable? Had Eric told them something? 

From my empty table, I found myself staring at him, only to have it cut off by Four sitting down in front of me.  

"Is everything alright?" I quickly ask, worried for the safety of the other Factionless.  

"They're alright. Every three days they move around to not leave a trail. They're still looking for them, probably even harder." He explains.  

Looking around, he leans in towards me and lowers his voice, which is a bit hard to hear with all the people speaking in the dining hall.  

"We have to come up with a plan." 

Oh no, not this again. At this point I was done making plans with any and everyone. I needed to learn and find out who I was before even attempting to try and do favors for everyone.  

"Four I'm just one person. I can't lead a whole group of Factionless." I speak, grabbing my tray and walking to the bin. Four's trailing behind me, eager for me to hear him out. As we pass by Eric's table, I secretly wonder if he sees me and Four, and what idea he has in his mind.  

"You gathered all this information and now you want to back down when things get tough?"  

Four's starting to sound like Jules with his 'don't give up' motto, but not nearly as forceful as Jules could be. 

"I was wrong. I was in over my head. I thought I could lead a revolution but I can't. I simply cannot. I want to be normal, and be my own person. I'm not cut out for this job." I speak. Though only Four and I can hear, it must look like we're arguing with the frustration that I put forth.  

I turn to walk away and Four grabs my hand from behind, turning me around. His hands are now on my shoulders and he's looking me dead in the eyes. A few people look at us, questioning what it is that we're doing, and from behind Four I can see Eric slowly standing from his seat, watching us.  

"Listen to me, yes you can. All you need is help." He tries to assure me, but it's failing to pull me through.  

My mind is cloudy, and I'm left questioning where it was at the moment. Shaking my head, I look up at him.  

"I'll try." I promise, my voice cracking from stress.  

\--- 

I wish I could've been working, or at work. Anything to take my mind off of the madness around me. Jules was mad at me, Eric was mad at me, Four had nearly all his faith put into me, and for that, I didn't know how to comprehend everything. I was everyone's test subject. But I didn't want to be. 

Everything I told Four was the truth. I didn't want to be responsible for thousands of Factionless, but at the same time I didn't want to be looked down upon for being so, either. Still, as I sat in Max's office, in silence, I wondered exactly what I was supposed to do next. It was just him and I, sharing an uncomfortable silence along that lengthy conference table.  

"What exactly am I here for?" I ask, looking at him in front of me.  

"We're waiting for someone." 

"Who?" I ask, praying to God it wasn't Eric, but as I had just hoped, I hear the door open. Max stands and without knowing who it is, I follow suit, looking around.  

It's a woman with blonde hair and navy blue clothes on. You'd have to be out of town if you couldn't guess she was from Erudite. Even without the blues, she just had that look. That pristine look that showed no-nonsense and all business, and she wasa certainly entertaining to look at.  

Upon setting her eyes on me, she smiles, extending her hand.  

"Jeanine Matthews," She introduces herself. "You must be the famous Milo that I've been hearing about around here."  

"I suppose that's me, minus the famous part." I smirk, shaking her hand.  

For the first time in my times in Max's office, she sits right beside where I am, and a wave of ease comes over me. I didn't feel like I was being talked at or analyzed. I felt...included.  

"Now, before getting into the big news, tell me of how you became Factionless?" She asks.  

"Well," I begin. I'm starting to search for a way to put it simply. "Pretty easy to grasp, I couldn't jump off the train."  

"Mhm," She nods, writing some things down in her notepad. She doesn't seem like she's ignoring me, like Eric had done when he was preoccupied while I was talking. But I suppose comparing two completely different people didn't mean anything much, either. "And you were from Candor?" 

"Yes."  

Jeanine puts down her pen and glances at Max before turning back to me.  

"Are you fond of good news?" She asks, and the question kind of throws me off.  

"I haven't received any in a long while but yes, I could use some good news." I grinned a bit.  

"Max has told me that you've done such hard work at Dauntless. He recognizes your service and realizes that a great mind like yours doesn't deserve to be out on the streets or wherever it was that you lived prior to being offered temporary stay here at Dauntless. Thus, we'll make arrangements with Jack Kang and see to it that you're able to be sent home. It should take about three weeks. I'm afraid that's the closest he can meet with you." 

It's almost like music to my ears. I could go home? No one was ever able to make it back to their Faction after no success with their initiation, but here I was, listening to this woman tell me that after four years of being cold, hungry, and without fresh clothes, that I can go home.  

I'm trying not to show emotion, but my eyes become flooded. I'm swallowing, trying to let the lump in my throat subside, and when it does, I smile through my blurred vision. I extend my hand out to her, which she merely looks at before pulling me into a hug.  

Perhaps I was wrong about Erudite and Dauntless? Maybe their intentions weren't so bad? If they detested and wanted to wipe out the Factionless, why were they willing to let me claim Candor as my faction in due time? 

But we all saw what Evelyn did, and it made me just as curious as to what was going on, though she did capture my attention with arranging to bring me back to Candor. 

Getting on the elevator, I'm alone, stunned that all this is happening. Pressing my floor, nothing else is clouding my mind, but the thought of my family, and going back, and how agonizing the three months would be.  

Heading downstairs, the elevator stops at seven, and almost like clockwork, Eric steps on as he did once before, this time not focused on his tablet. We briefly make eye contact before he reaches for the buttons, pressing 6.  

Damn... 

The doors begin to close, and as soon as we begin moving upstairs instead of down, I instantly know something is going on. The elevator jerks a bit and comes to a complete stop. Waiting to see what it would do, I pressed 6, hoping it would move, but to no avail.  

"Fucking great." I mumble under my breath.  

"In a rush?" He asks, looking at me, but I ignore him, trying to contact help.  

"Hello? Yes we're stuck in between 7 and 8, I believe. Hello?" 

"What, are you not talking to me?" He asks.  

"You haven't tried talking to me." I respond.  

"I just did." He responds, his eyes locked on me.  

"Let's not discuss this, alright? Not now, not ever," I speak, "Soon enough I'll be out of your hair." 

I try to focus on my family, but the only people that come to mind are Mama Beth and Papa Joe. And instantly, I feel guilty. I had more of a connection to them because they taught me how to survive. 

 _Don't eat all your food at one time, child. Save some for later._  

 _But why? I'm hungry, now._  

 _Trust me, baby, trust me._  

"What do you mean by that?" Eric asks, referring to my statement. I wanted him to miss me. But rather than explain all that just happened, I took a seat in the elevator, waiting impatiently for help.  

 

I didn't know what was hardest to deal with: the fact that I was stuck in this elevator with Eric for the second time, or the fact that if we were on good terms, we could have at least talked about something. Anything. And while I did dismiss Eric multiple times in the elevator, I really wished he would say something.  

Of course, Eric is not standing. He refuses to relax in these types of situations, and when he looks down at me in confusion, I raise an eyebrow. 

"Yes?"  

"What did you mean you'd be out of my hair?" 

I forced a smile on my face as I looked at him. "I have a meeting arranged at Candor in a month. They're considering putting me back into my faction."  

"What? Why?"  

"I earned it." I shrugged, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Talking about it did make me proud, but at what cost? I had promised to help so many people, and when it came time for me to choose to help myself, I feel as though it's the wrong thing to do.  

"Do you want to go back?"  

"It's where I was born, where I belong, since I obviously don't belong in Dauntless."  

"That wasn't the question I asked." 

"That's not a question I want to answer." I snap back.  

Standing up now, I'm looking around the elevator, focusing on the vent above us. Behind me, Eric is watching, and in my head I'm estimating the width of the vent with my hips and ribcage, getting an inane idea that ultimately led to my frustration. 

"Who told you that you can go back to Candor?" He's still trying to process this, but I'm borderline not caring. 

"Who told you to focus so heavily on this topic?" 

"Can you just stop?" 

"No, because all this time you've been acting like I'm the scum of the Earth and when I decide that perhaps leaving would be best for not only me but you, you want to interrogate me?"  

I roll my eyes from the vent, attempting to turn around to press the help button once more, but jump when seeing Eric standing close to me just like when we were on the roof. He's not speaking, and his gaze is fixated on my eyes, and it's like I'm reading him like he's reading me. I'm stuck on his eyes, my breath going shallow as he takes one more step to me. I'm looking up at him, the warmth from his body radiating onto mine.  

I cut my gaze, focused on his lips for just a second too long, which was all we both needed as a signal before he leans down, his lips meeting mine. Eric's body presses against mine in the elevator, his thick hands on my hips while mine gripped at his shirt.  

Feeling his lips on mine is magnetic and addicting. The way his body is against mine makes it even harder to stop. I don't want to, and neither does he, so why should we have to? 

The kiss intensifies when I open my mouth, his tongue caressing mine as I feel his hands run from my waist to my hands, pinning them against the elevator and above my head. With his action, I can hear a deep, lustful groan emit from deep within as he has me under his control. 

Soon, we hear a high pitched _DING!_ and instantly pull apart, straightening our clothes and ourselves as the door slowly opens. A few maintenance members look at the both of us.  

"Sorry it took so long." They spoke apologetically, though all I could've wished for was that they would've taken a little longer.  


	12. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [First scene reflects Jules' thoughts]

That one cameras was all that Jules had focused on. He watched it countlessly, watching as Eric would leave periodically and come back, and then soon Milo, and often times both of them leaving together. They were living in the same apartment, and with the smile Milo bore, he knew it was anything but business. Whatever it was between them, it needed to be squashed, and it needed to be squashed immediately.  

From his left, Noah logs out of Candor's security cameras and looks at Jules, his eyes peered on the screen. His eyes are tense and reddened, and he's agitated, his muscles twitching from the bouts of coffee he drank on and off. Still, regardless of the fact that both Milo and Eric hadn't left the room at all today made his mind race with various ideas.  

Traitor, Factionless, Dauntless, Candor, Apple tree, more apples, apples, apples, Milo, Samiyah, Samiyah, Milo.  

"Are you alright?" Noah asked him, already knowing the response he would get.  

Nothing.  

But soon, as Noah, and now both Nick and Raul watched him closely, they all jumped as Jules banged his fist in anger on the desk.  

"Come on!" He screams at the laptop, and almost on cue, he notices movement in the camera, and zooms in, seeing Eric and Milo, talking and holding hands as they walk down the halls. In rage, he slams the laptop down, and stands up from the bench, walking around.  

"That fuckin' bitch." 

It wasn't jealousy that she had gone with Eric, but the fact that she hadn't contacted them at all in days spoke volumes.  

"Are you finally going to get some sleep tonight? Like, actually getting a good night's sleep and not a twenty minute nap before you decide to fixate on Milo, anymore?" 

"I knew she'd turn us in. I knew it."  

"Jules, she's the one that found out about the attack on headquarters. If it weren't for her, they'd all be dead." Raul tried reasoning with him.  

"She doesn't care. She doesn't care. She doesn't care." He began whispering frantically under his breath, kicking the wall ever so often. All his friends could do was watch.  

"And where is she now? Sleeping with the enemy in his bed while we work our asses off trying to get information for ourselves because she tapped out of The Apple Tree. She knows what she's doing. And I know it," He growls at them. "I could kill her." 

Noah stands up quickly, his hands on Jules' shoulders while he tries to calm him down.  

"Relax, no one is killing anyone," He speaks, turning to his brother and Raul and then back at Jules. "Anymore." 

"Right. We just need time. She probably needs time. And maybe boning Eric is apart of her plan. We just need to wait." 

"I've done my waiting! I've done all I could do to try and get that nasty little snot to join us, to need us, to scare her into remembering where she came from and why she had this ambition, this drive. But in the end we get this close and bam, it's all gone."  

"I think we should try to contact Milo." Raul suggests. 

It's quiet in the underground bunker, and as Jules pushes Noah off of him, he takes slow steps towards Raul.  

"And how do you expect us to do that when her fucking earpiece is disconnected and has been for the past week? Hmm?" 

Jules walks away from them and looks at the next things on the checklist hanging up on the wall by the blueprint.  

"Trust me, fellas, the next time we hear from her, she won't be talking for long."  

\--- 

Living with Eric was unexpected but something that I knew I wanted. When I would think too much, I would cook. I'd cook breakfast and dinner, sometimes even some treats. We weren't entirely public about our, well...about whatever it is that we were, but no one had to know. As long as we knew, that's what really did matter, didn't it? 

Stepping out the bathroom, Eric made his way behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he lifted me from my position at the stove.  

"Eric, put me down." I grinned slightly. He set me back down momentarily, and then picked me back up, dampening me a bit as he held me against his wet body. He laid me down on the couch, kissing me while bent down a bit.  

My heart was beating fast as I smiled through the kisses, caressing his face ever so gently while he hovered over me. Breaking away from the kiss he looks at me, playing with my hair.  

"What are doing today?" He asks softly. Raising an eyebrow in interest, I look at me.  

"You're relying on me to make plans for us?"  

"Well according to you I don't have fun."  

"You don't." I tease back. 

"So then what do you suggest?" he asks, leaning towards me. I'm almost sure that he's going for a kiss on my neck, but instead nudges it softly with his nose.  

"Well we could always alphabetize your bookshelf again or color-coordinate your sock drawer." I grin. Eric scoffs, grinning a bit at my silliness. It's the most beautiful thing, to see him grin, and show some emotion other than blank seriousness, all the time.  

"Easy, because they're all black."  

I smirk at him, propping myself up on my elbows and easing out of his grip.  

"Unless you want burned bacon, I suggest I finish cooking." I speak, heading back over to the kitchen.  

Eric walked to his room, holding onto the front of his towel while calling out to me from the bedroom.  

"You don't really want to go out today, do you?"  

"I don't know. Why? Do you?"  

"I'll go out if you do."  

"Same here." I called back.  

For once, it felt good that the only decision I had to make was whether or not we were going to go outside or not. Fixing the rest of our breakfast, I turn around, seeing Eric on his tablet with boxers and a t-shirt on. Then it hits me.  

"You know, I just made my mind up about today's plans." I spoke, placing the pans in the sink.  

Eric's standing there, waiting for my answer. I bring both of our plates to the coffee table, setting it down and with my hands on my hips, I smirk.  

"I'm going to find out the true Eric." I state. "The Eric before Dauntless." 

 

As the rest of the day lingered on, Eric reluctantly agreed to my day-only changes to his routine. We were going to learn about each other, and open up without anyone or anything such as his electronics disturbing us. So I laid out a blanket, a small red one Eric had stashed away under his bed, and made sandwiches as we had a picnic just to ourselves in front of his living room window.  

The lights were dim, just how I wanted it as I stared outside, looking at the setting sun in awe. I had almost forgotten its beauty while tucked away in Dauntless. I was always so busy, and looking at it reminded me of the cold nights I spent with mama and papa.  

Across from me, Eric sat, munching on sliced pickles to go with his sandwich. He was noticing me looking outside, watching me.  

"Milo?" He asked.  

I turned my head to him, unaware that despite wanting us to not get distracted, I was letting myself become so infatuated with the sunset.  

"Sorry." I smile faintly.  

"Your turn." He speaks, wiping his mouth.  

Eric's unusually cool right now, actually relaxing on the blanket, one leg bent and the other folded inward as he waits for the next question.  

"Uhm, okay," I think. So far I found out that Eric transferred from Erudite and became the Dauntless leader at age seventeen. Extremely impressive. He was born in early September-- A Virgo, and I found out his first fight was really bad. Apparently he went in thinking he could just use all his power, but ended up getting hurt really bad. "What's with the book of poems?"  

Eric shrugs a bit and looks up at me, but not in disgust or apathy, but like a person who was actually listening.  

"When I first came to Dauntless, before I was the leader, my mother showed up to Visiting Day and asked me if I were alright. This was after the first bad fight, mind you, and I was in the lower percentile. I thought they were going to kick me out for good and that I wouldn't be able to come home. And my mom took out the book, signed it, and gave it to me. I had always asked if she meant to give it away so easily, but turns out she was reading it on her way to see me. She knew I loved her poems and felt that I wouldn't be as afraid anymore. But there was this poem on page ten to eleven and it was about strength. I found my way out the slump I was in and here I am." He smirks.  

"Do you write them?" I ask, taking a bite out of my sandwich.  

"Nah, I never tried. I was always busy."  

"Alright, your turn."  

"What made you defect from Candor?"  

I shrugged a shoulder and chuckle a bit.  

"Impulse. I didn't really think things through. But I knew that I did want to be involved in Dauntless in some way. But I couldn't." I speak. I feel kind of embarrassed speaking about this once again with the same man who called me weak, and though I had forgiven him, I knew that it was probably true.  

Eric notices me looking down and away and moves his food out of the way. Downing the last bit of the wine he had in his glass, he opens out his arms.  

"Come here."  

I smirk a bit, crawling over to him and sitting beside him. But he isn't satisfied. Without much force, he pulls me onto his lap, hugging me around my waist as he rests his head against my back. While this type of affection was nice, I still needed to get used to this tough guy simultaneously being a teddy bear.  

"Your turn." He spoke.  

"Tell me a secret."  

"Alright," he thinks for a moment, his hands loosening up from my waist. He maneuvers quickly, pinning me against the floor. "You aren't the only one good at tickling someone."  

His fingers dance at my side while I'm on the floor but they soon stop as he looks down at me.  

"I'm being serious." I pout a bit, though I'm trying to hide my grin.  

He groans a bit, pulling me up from my laying position so that we're both now sitting back up.  

"I don't have any."  

"I think you do."  

"How about _you_ tell me a secret." Eric speaks, reaching over and taking my glass of wine, sipping it.  

Just before I started to say "I don't have any." I realized I had a ton of secrets. Possibly too many to count. So why not start with the obvious?  

"My name."  

Eric looked at me, leaning forward a bit.  

"What about it?"  

"My name," I pause. "Is not Milo."  

Eric's confused as he's staring dead at me. He's not understanding and I get that. After knowing me as 'Milo' for all this time, he had just learned that I wasn't who I called myself.  

"What do you mean? What's your name?" 

I swallowed a bit, trying to wet my throat before speaking. I wondered somehow if this were going to ruin my chances of trust between him and I.  

"Samiyah." I speak softly.  

"Samiyah," he repeats. He looks away at another part of the apartment and picks up my glass. He goes to take another sip, though seeing my worried expression on my face, he grins a bit, picking up the sandwich. "Well Samiyah, you make a mean turkey sandwich."  

I chuckle a bit, inching in closer to him, holding onto his hand.  

"Do you think differently of me?"  

"I just want to know why you've never told me."  

"Because for the duration that I've known you, you called me 'Curber'."  

"I'm sorry," He speaks, turning away and looking out the window. He seems lost in thought, but once they're gathered, he looks at me. "But why the change in the first place?" 

"I don't know," I began. "I just guessed that a new name would bring on a change of character. But come to find out I was the same person all along, just in hiding."  

He shifts away from me a bit, and while I'm frightened at first that he's pushing himself away from me again, I relax once I see him facing me.  

"Personally, I think you look more like a Samiyah than you did a Milo, anyway."  

 

As the night wore on, and a couple more glasses of wine later, I found myself laying beside Eric, wearing one of his shirts while he slept with just his boxers. He was snoring faintly, but I didn't mind. There was something comforting about having him laying beside me, resting with just me. But something that dawned on me the most was what he said to me before we laid down. Something that made all this click inside.  

As I had sat on the bed, taking off my socks, Eric laid there watching me. And when I turned around to question him, his arms behind his head.  

"Is there anything else you need to tell me?"  

My heart skipped a beat, and I didn't know how to process this question. Should I lie, jump around it, or ignore it? He was too smart for two of those, but how could he ever detect a lie? How would he?  

"Besides the fact that you're insanely cute, and not at all the big bad wolf everyone thinks you are?"  

"Besides all that." He smirks. 

I look him in the eyes, getting under the covers and looking at him.  

"There's nothing else."  

Did I feel bad about lying to Eric? Of course, but I wanted peace more than anything. I wanted us to be civil, to actually go a couple of days without fighting or arguing. I was enjoying the time I spent with him, and with him accepting my name, I felt it were the start to more trust between him and I.  


	13. Exposed

I felt dirty. And not because my stomach was upset from the wine we had last night, but because of the lie that I told Eric. How could he have found out about what I've done if I didn't tell him? But still, knowing that I was keeping things from him wasn't exactly how I wanted our relationship to begin. Hell, not even twenty-four hours ago, he just learned my real name. And knowing the fact that I kept it from him all this time probably drove him into believing that I had more secrets kept up my sleeve, which was his reasoning for last nights question.  

I hated myself for lying. I could've broke down and told him all that I did while under grief and mourning for Mama Beth and Papa Joe. But I just wanted things between us to be as calm as possible for as long as I was allotted.  

My back ached, and not because I slept crooked on Eric's arm, but because I was stressed. Hmm, and maybe because I slept crooked on Eric's arm.  

I turned around, letting the warm water hit my back as the door to the bathroom opened.  

"It's just me." Eric called out, walking to the sink and turning it on. I didn't respond.  

I was thinking about him, and I clearly heard him, but facing him was another story. I didn't want to draw attention to myself through distance, but I felt that hiding my true feelings screamed "fake".  

"What do you want for breakfast?" I call out.  

"Uh, I gotta run, actually. Training." he spoke before the faint sound of brushing could be heard. After rinsing, he tapped lightly on the shower curtain. I pulled it back, revealing only my face, and blinked when Eric went in for a kiss really quick.  

"I'll see you at dinner." He spoke, leaving the bathroom, and then the apartment all together.  

In the silence, all I could think was how angry Jules, Noah, Nick, Raul and Evelyn were all with me. I was supposed to help them gain control over the Faction system, but how was I to do that when I couldn't even gain control over my wet dreams?  

 

Work was dull, as always, and while I normally wanted to go out for lunch, I stayed behind with Arnold. He was eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich, munching while glancing at me ever so often. I was stressed, flipping aimlessly through the panels. Taking my silence as a sign of distress, he spoke up.  

"You alright?"  

"No." 

"Had a fight with Eric?" 

"No," I respond. "And if we did, it's none of your business." 

Focusing on my screen, I hadn't even realized that Arnold had broke apart a piece of his sandwich, setting it on a napkin and setting it in front of me.  

Smiling slightly, I picked it up and took a bite, though putting it back down.  

"Don't worry, sometimes I get a little feisty when I'm hungry."  

But that wasn't my reasoning.  

"Arnold, when you saw Eric and I on the rooftop, what did you see?" 

"Well, you were annoying the crap out of him, I can tell you that, which surprised us all because you're so...laidback when you work. I never would have guessed that he struck your fancy."  

"Yeah well it kind of just happened," I spoke. "But did you actually see anything?"  

Arnold stops eating and looks at me, almost in shock.  

"Was there something that I missed? Because if so, I can't tell if I'm disappointed or shocked that I did."  

I playfully punch him on the arm.  

"I didn't mean that, I meant that if it were obvious something was there. Like a connection."  

"I definitely saw something. Whatever it is you want to call it, connection, chemistry, or maybe even fondness, it was there. And it was mutual. That's why we were mostly shocked. Because this whole time that we've known Eric, he's never showed interest in anyone. And if he did, we'd all know about it."  

"What do you mean?"  

"A big intimidating dude like that? Of course you'd be stunned seeing him with someone. Let alone someone like you. And you gained his trust. You should pat yourself on the back."  

The way he spoke made it seem like me gaining Eric's trust was such a big accomplishment. Then again, knowing Eric's demeanor, I wonder if it were always hard for him to open up and gain people's trust. And I had gained his in such short time. 

 

By the time I had gotten home, I couldn't focus on anything. Perhaps telling him now would have been easier than waiting too late, or having him find out. But how could he even find out? Cutting off the shower, and wrapping my towel around my body, I stepped out of the bathroom, heading towards the bedroom. I jumped, seeing Eric standing in the middle, changing out of his shirt which he tossed on the bed.  

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in." I smirked, standing in the doorway. Feeling bashful, I hesitated for a brief moment before speaking up again. "I can leave and change after you do." 

But he's shirtless now, staring at me with a serious look on his face. I watch as his eyes travel slowly to my body, silently wondering what I looked like beneath it. I tried not to force myself to smile, but once I walked in, retrieving the shirt he had just taken off, he reprimanded me.  

"Don't you dare." he warned. Dropping the shirt, I stood before him, wondering what it is that he wanted to do. He walked towards me slowly, the anticipation building as he took his time. Grabbing my hands, he kissed them gently, putting them back at my sides and lowering me to the bed.  

I could feel my heart beating fast, and without even speaking a word, we both know what was going to happen next. 

Eric sat beside me, swallowing and looking up at me, leaning in for a gentle kiss, before he raised a hand to my thigh. After the kiss we shared, he pulled away, whispering into my ear a soft, 

"Can I?" Before I gave him my approval.  

He pushed apart my thighs, his hand squeezing the inner parts of them while I bit my lower lip. His touch was both gentle and aggressive, and I wondered how that could be so. Wanting to take matters into my own hands, I stand up, admiring the adoration in his eye as he looked up at me. Removing my towel, I let myself be bare in front of him, for the first time. I playfully toss it at him, which he places on the bed beside him without a smirk, smile, or grin.  

Instead, he looks serious. Standing in front of him doesn't seem unnatural, but more like it was gift. Yeah...being in his presence and having him explore my body was a gift. And the way he did it, paying attention to much detail down to the curve of my breasts, the hairs on my body, and the way my skin looked so supple and damp after the shower. While I want his hands to touch, grip, grab, and play with parts of me, having him look at me seems almost enough.  

He reaches out for my hand, and when he guides me closer to him, he places his hands on my lower back, kissing my belly. When he's done, Eric lays me down, but he's not laying beside me, like usual.  

While he bends my legs, he glances up at me before looking over my yoni, my lower region, my vagina. I'm almost breathless when I see his face drawing closer in between my legs, and with a kiss, I'm ready to give into him.  

Once he's done, he links his arms with my legs, as if to hold me down, and shifts his stare to me as he begins taking slow strokes along my clit. At the feeling, I'm in control, steadying my breathing but enjoying the sensation. He's periodically sucking, bringing me further from my cool and calm state and into one of pleasure-filled cravings.  

I can't help but grip his hair as he eats, his licks turning into sucks on my labia and clit. I'm gushing, now, and he wants to test exactly how wet I am. Two fingers slide in with ease, and he grins at how lubricated I am.  

With shaky legs, I arch my back, the feeling intensifying as he's deep in me, his fingers teasing my insides as if daring to "come here", running past my g-spot. I'm overwhelmed, my breathing quickening, my body growing damper with sweat, and my eyes closed.  

For a split second, I feel something odd deep within, but I don't stop his actions. The unfamiliar feeling nearly makes my heart skip, and the side effects reoccur as he quickens. He's teasing my clit, with his mouth motion going slow and his fingers feeling me out. 

Then it happens again.  

I'm almost tempted to stop now, but the feeling is too great. The teasing of my clit mixed with his fingers is too much. I'm gasping for air, trying to call out for his name, but it's too much. Speech is useless at this point.  

"I'm, I'm-" 

I want to warn him, as the once unfamiliar feeling returns, coming back stronger. No more moans are escaping my mouth, and when I finally give in, I let go of all that is stopping me.  

It's a quick release, but it's enough to send my muscles into sporadic spasms. I can feel Eric stop sucking on my clit, though his fingers are still moving. The act had stopped, but as he continues playing with me, more comes forth. I moan louder than I had ever done before, letting my body do whatever it needed while I release. When it seems like I'm done, I'm exhausted and surprised in myself. The sheets below me are soaked, and I feel sort of bad for what happened. 

But damn did it feel good.  

Opening my eyes, I look to see whether Eric is upset, but he's not. He's grinning down at me, his eyes on my pussy in satisfaction, wiping his face from me squirting. I can tell he's proud of himself, as he should be. Before I could get the chance to apologize, he's moving up towards me, welcoming me with a tongue kiss.  

I'm still shivering and twitching a bit from my orgasm, and he notices this. But he doesn't ask questions. Instead, he confronts me.  

"You like that?" He asks, his voice low and heavy. I did; I liked it a lot. But all I do is nod. He grins at me, his erection pressing against my thigh as he licks his fingers, massaging my clit in circular motions.  

"Can you handle anymore?" 

Of. Fucking. Course.  

Without even answering, I roll over, now on top of Eric. His hands are on my breasts, his thumbs running over my nipples, but I smack them away.  

"I'm in charge." I announce.  

I start by kissing his neck, making my way down to his bare chest, planting kisses down his sternum, and making my way to his pants. We wouldn't be needing those, that's for sure.  

When he's naked on his bottom half, I nearly stare in awe at his size, but without wanting to waste anytime, I bend down, my mouth touching the tip, and sucking and licking gently as a tease. My hands run down the shaft, meeting his balls as I massage gently.  

When he moans, deep and in full bliss, I can feel myself grow aroused once again. Really wanting to treat him, I begin sucking, holding my breath as I fit all of his dick in my mouth, careful not to gag.  

"Oh, fuck." He moans, watching me carefully through half-closed eyes. From this angle, he looks especially handsome, and even more attractive since he's under my control. No longer sucking on his dick, I let my tongue tail from his shaft, to the base, and down to his balls, sucking while slowly stroking.  

His moans grow louder, no longer watching me and instead enjoying the actions. When his dick is nice and wet, I utilize the opportunity to climb on top of Eric when he's not looking, sitting on him. He's slowly stretching me from his girth, but with ease, and the feeling is intoxicating.  

Eric sits up, one arm around my waist and the other behind him as he watches me ride. He's deep inside me, his dick running past my g-spot as his fingers did moments before. Through half-closed eyes, I see Eric, and his pleasured face is almost as hot as his moans.  

Every aspect about this is hot.  

"I'm gonna cum." I speak, pushing Eric back down on the bed and holding onto his wrists as I quicken my ride, savoring every inch he had inside me, and stopping short once I tighten around his dick, cumming, but not squirting.  

He's still inside me, and the feeling of him there only fuels my desire for more.  

Eric picks me up, his hands gripping onto my ass as he's still inside me. He's walking around the room, finding a clear spot on the wall and pinning me against it. The feeling of the coldness on my back perks me up, and soon I'm ready for him to give me all of him. He's holding me up with ease, his dick flowing in and out of me slowly, teasing me.  

"Look at me." he demands. At first, I feel a bit silly. Eye contact during sex? How awkward. But complying, I look at his and he's looking into mine, and it's radiant. Seeing his reactions as he's seeing mine is actually turning me on more.  

Soon, we're back on the bed, Eric towering over me as I lay on my back, taking his dick as he gives it to me, his body pressed against mine with the ever so often suck on my nipples, but he's pounding into me, not giving my pussy a chance to rest, but I love it.  

He raises up in a push-up position, looking down at his lower half thrusting into mine, and when he looks back up at me, wanting eye contact, he grits his teeth, deep lust pouring forward and out from within as he unloads his warm cum deep inside me.  

 

We're still laying beside each other, Eric with his hand behind his head, his other arm as my own personal pillow, shifting every now and again so that it doesn't go numb. He's caressing my hair, staring at me in the process, though I choose not to make eye contact with him.  

I despise the fact I grow so concerned with everyday life shortly after having sex with Eric. And apparently it shows.  

"What's the matter?" He asks me. I manage to look up at him, shaking my head though he grows persistent. "Hmm?" 

"What if I choose to go back to my family, Eric? What happens then?"  

"Well, being honest would be a better exercise than the one here at Dauntless, that's for sure." He teases with a smirk. Instantly, I sit up, propping myself up on my forearms as I look at him.  

"I'm being serious," I frown. "Two separate factions? It can't possibly last. At least not for the long run. This, whatever this is, would have to end."  

After I speak, Eric is silent for a second before turning on his side, looking at me. he's propped up on one of his arms, looking at me intently. 

" _This_ is a relationship," Eric speaks. "And I'd do whatever it is that I can to make sure that you and I can stay together for as long as we can. I can promise you that." 

I sit up on the edge of the bed, sighing and shaking my head.  

"When I'm here, I'm Factionless. I don't belong anywhere. I worked my way back to Candor, but I'm not sure that I belong or want to be there either."  

"Samiyah," Eric starts. He's sitting up now, looking at the back of me while all my attention is focused on the floor. "I can't tell you what to choose and what not to choose. That's all on you. But if I had a say in anything, which I don't, but still, I'd want you here. I'd want you to be with me. But don't let what others want influence what you really want."  

I turn around to look at him, shocked. Was this some sort of vague declaration on his behalf? He's serious, almost as serious as when I had first met him. Seeing him like this, shirtless with his brows furrowed was almost tempting to agree to stay here forever. I don't know what to say to him. I don't know what to say about all of this. I'm greatly conflicted, and having him now as a factor in me choosing, I had no idea what to think, next.  

I was ready to get back in the bed and just rest against him. Perhaps a decision would come soon. But as soon as I had shifted my weight, loud sounds and screaming could be heard from outside the apartment.  

"What was that?" I ask.  

Eric jumps to his feet, putting on his shirt and some sweatpants before rushing to the door barefoot. He doesn't have his gun, so the only weapon he had were his fists.  

I looked in Eric's dresser drawer, putting on a t-shirt. His shirts were big enough to cover just below my lower half, and trotting behind Eric.  

He's standing in the doorway, peeking outside. The resident of the apartment in front of ours, a woman I had never seen before, steps out and looks at Eric. 

"What's going on?" She whispers.  

"Go back inside and don't come out." He instructs.  

"Eric?" I speak, standing close with a touch on his shoulder.  

"Shh, get away from the door." He nearly pushes me, though I know it's not to hurt me.  

From where I stood, the only thing I could hear was yelling, and eventually guns going off. And soon, a deep voice screaming to the top of his lungs.  

"Samiyah!"  

Oh fuck... 

"Samiyah!"  

From the front door, Eric turns around to look at me, and turns back to the door.  

"Come out wherever you are you little snob!"  

Soon, Eric stands up straight, closing the door behind him as he walks outside. Rushing to the door, I press my ear to it, hearing guards all around screaming at him. When the gunman engages in conversation with Eric, I instantly know who it is. 

Jules. 

"What do you want with Samiyah?" Eric asks, his voice slightly muffled through the door.  

"No introductions, Eric?" Jules asks cynically. 

"I don't know who you are."  

"Exactly. Because you kicked me out of Dauntless during initiation. I was Dauntless-born. I should've stayed." 

This was it. This was the time Jules would come for his vengeance.  

"And what do you expect, now? That just because you're holding a gun, walking through the halls asking for Samiyah, you're dauntless and brave? Drop your gun, and if you want Samiyah, you'll have to fight me for her." 

"Eric don't." I can hear Max's voice behind him. It's hard not being able to see, but with the sudden shouting of "Drop it!", I wonder if Jules is now pointing the gun at Eric.  

"I will shoot you, Coulter. And I won't even think twice about it." 

"So then shoot me."  

At that moment, I swing open the door, standing in fright as both Eric, Jules, and Max are now looking at me. Jules' eyes are bloodshot, and his hand is shaky and sweaty, matching the beads of sweat on his forehead and temples. No wonder Eric dared him to shoot him. He was scared to even do so.  

"No one is killing anyone!" I scream, stepping side-by-side Eric.  

I reach for Eric's hand blindly, as he strongly grasps mine. Jules sees this, and looks up at the two of us.  

"I'm not going to tell you again. Drop your weapon!" Max screams.  

"Drop your tone." Jules replies boredly as he looked over his shoulder. Instead, he turns back to face the both of us.  

"Jules just calm down before you do anything you're going to regret. You're very smart, but this is a dumb idea."  

"No, what was dumb was putting my trust in you. I put my faith in you, Samiyah. And you end up sleeping with the enemy," He speaks, pointing the gun briefly at Eric and then at me. "Tell him why you're really here. Tell him why!" 

"Jules I did not betray you. I tried to help you but-" 

"Shut up!" Jules screams. "Since you two obviously have so much in common, let's see what else you have in common. Hmm, oh I know: The fact that both of your family members are dead, thanks to me."  

That's all it took for Eric's fury to raise. His anger radiated onto me, and I stood there in both equal parts fear and frustration that I couldn't take it out on Jules. Seeing our expressions, Jules grins, cocking the gun.  

"Bingo."  

But just before he even tries to pull the trigger, Max does first.  

Jules' body falls to the ground with a thud, his gun laying next to him all I could do was stare. Even with Eric walking past me and into the apartment, I stood there in shock.  


	14. The Break

Ever since the incident, there was something ominous about things between Eric and I. We weren't arguing, or fighting, but we weren't kissing and cuddling either. Hell, even if he did say something sarcastic, I'd know he was his old self. But he was not.  

The next day after Jules attacked Dauntless, we found out that it wasn't just him. Max led us to the infirmary, showing us four covered bodies, asking if we identified any of them. Eric didn't. 

But I knew all of them.  

It wasn't just Jules. Somehow he had convinced The Apple Tree to come in and attack alongside him. It was a heavy shootout, starting downstairs with Raul getting shot first, as well as two other Dauntless guards. Then the next three floors with Noah getting killed in the staircase. At the sight of his brother, Nick had started to freak out, and believed he was next. Which he was.  

Jules shot him.  

I was neither sad about their deaths, nor was I thankful, either. I was just numb. I had this overwhelming sense that this was all my fault. Had I not asked Mama Beth and Papa Joe if we could go to the Factionless Headquarters, I would've never met Jules, he would have never poisoned my family, and he would have never used their death as a reason to fuel my hate towards the faction system. 

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my time here was essentially pointless. I wasn't supposed to be a janitor. I wasn't supposed to be a spy. This wasn't all fate. It was premeditated by someone who needed an innocent face like mine to get away with their dirty work.  

Eric and I both took the news the same way: silence and just shifting ourselves around. My family and his mother were not supposed to die. He took them from us for vengeance, for his own poor excuses to make us suffer. And for that, Jules was unforgivable, to me.  

I couldn't help but shake the fact that me knowing the attackers made me look suspicious to the rest of the Dauntless members. Especially Max and Eric.  

When the incident was still fresh, not even a whole day old, I was brought to Max's office. His face was no longer kind, and I could tell he felt that me living here was a mistake on his part. And I bet he couldn't wait for the rest of the weeks to come and fly by faster so that I could leave and no longer pose a threat to his faction.  

"How did you know them?" Max asked. I can remember the pained look on his face, and the one Eric bore as he stood beside him. Standing up, looking over me, he didn't seem like my lover. More or less, he seemed like my higher up.  

"At headquarters when I was Factionless."  

"You still are." Max interrupted, reminding me of my place.  

I looked down at my hands a bit, and then back up at him.  

"He involved me in this get rich quick scheme when my family died...at his hands. He told me he found a way to make money, and once I was in I couldn't get out." 

"And you believed him?" Max scoffed.  

Truthfully, I felt entirely foolish for believing him, but I let anger cloud my judgment. At that point in my life, no one could tell me that my decisions and future moves were wrong. Though the intentions were understandable, how I went about it would raise eyebrows.  

But that was then, and today, Eric and I were still silent, something I couldn't really complain about.  

Today, Eric was taking longer than usual in the shower, and though I usually say good-bye before work, I felt that perhaps we would talk to each other when the time was right. When we were both ready.  

I let a small sigh escape from my lips, and when I pass by the bathroom door, I'm more aware of the forming bags under my eyes. Sleep was neither a common thing, or one that I was fond of lately.  

I walked into the bathroom, clearing the foggy mirror, and looking at my face. I looked tired, and I had no idea how exactly it was that I was going to make it to work and actually do my job, this time around.  

"It's just me." I call out to him. But he doesn't answer. I glance at the shower, not seeing any movement, and instantly become concerned. 

"Eric?"  

I drop my bag at the bathroom door, and slowly walk towards the shower. It's steamy in here, and uncomfortable with the amount of clothes I have on. I call out to him once more, and while pulling back the shower curtains, I see Eric. He's in the corner of the shower, his arm resting on the wall in a bent position as his face is buried against it. His shoulders are jumping every couple of seconds, and though he isn't making any noise, I can tell he's sobbing.  

While his back is turned, I slip off my shoes and pants, then my jacket and top. Soon, I'm naked, stepping into the shower with him. I'm not sure if he notices me or not, but when I touch his back, he flinches from it. This was a first.  

"Eric." I speak out, my voice almost in a whisper. He turns around, his eyes just as red, swollen and puffy. At the sight of him, I'm almost brought to tears as well, and soon Eric is holding me around my waist, our bodies touching in the most platonic way. From his weight, I feel myself being dragged to the shower floor, which I gladly welcome with bended knees. Eric follows me, still holding on as we sit, the shower hitting parts of us, but not all. And suddenly, he breaks.  

Seeing this Eric was so naked. Not in the sense of being clotheless, but in the sense of being raw, being vulnerable, being exposed to all his feelings about his mother that he probably hid for the past year, all coming crashing back now. I have no choice but to think of Mama Beth and Papa Joe as he cries on my shoulder, letting my feelings wipe out as well. Every ounce of me that I had tucked away, was being let go, and so was he.  

I try to speak through my sobs, gaining control over my voice for nearly a second, before I try to speak.  

"It's going to be okay."  

\-- 

It was safe to say that Eric and I hadn't gone in to work that day. Instead, all I could do was cook. But something that I was grateful for was the fact that the conversation between Eric and I had picked up. We weren't talking about any and everything, but we didn't need to.  

After our shower scene, it was something lifted and comfortable about the new type of silence between us. Pouring myself a cup of water, I turned around when seeing Eric standing up, heading towards the door.  

"Where are you going?" I ask, curious as to what he was thinking.  

"We're going out."  

 

The tattoo parlor wasn't as busy today, and with talk of what had happened between Eric and I in regards to Jules, a few people analyzed us cautiously. Still, I walked around, looking at all the different designs by myself while Eric waited to be seen.  

Everything was so intricate, but nothing fit what I wanted. On second thought, I wasn't exactly sure if I wanted one or not.  

The music was slow, and fluid-like, something that properly fit the vibe of the dark shop. From behind me, snapping me out of my state, I heard Eric call to me from across the room.  

"You coming in?" he asks.  

Without even thinking, I walk over to him, and into the tattoo parlor. The woman waiting to ready the device smirks as she looks at me and turns to Eric.  

"What, you need someone to hold your hand?" She teases.  

"Let's just get this done." He speaks, taking his shirt off and handing it to me.  

The woman takes his tattoo idea in his hands and looks over it.  

"Now where do you want this?" he asks.  

"On my side, right on my rib." He instructs, raising his arm.  

"Look over it one last time to make sure." She speaks, handing the plastic stencil to us. We both analyze it, as Eric stares. He looks up at me, and with a smile of approval, he speaks up. 

"Yeah."  

The woman readies the device, placing it on Eric's side, and beginning to pump the ink. As he lays there, I look at the woman's table, seeing the pink poetry book laying on it, his mother's signature circled in pencil.  


	15. Preparation

Two weeks.  

It had been two weeks since Jules' attack on Dauntless, which meant that I was just days away from entering into Candor, taking my claim and why I should return. I had grown weak, at one point almost throwing up from stress. As I walk out of Eric's bedroom, which I shamelessly called "ours" from time to time, I see him in the kitchen, drinking some milk from his cereal bowl.  

"Do you want some breakfast?" he asks, wiping his mouth.  

"Can't. I'm going to be late." 

He smirks a bit, walking over to where I am.  

"Did you forget that you're about two minutes away from your job? Or are you on a hunger strike?"  

"I'm just thinking about my decision." 

These days, headaches were almost normal to me, and altered my mood greatly. When he sees me holding my head, he frowns.  

"You're hungry. You have to eat something." He speaks. I tried to walk past him, but he's blocking me, his hands on my shoulders. "Samiyah." 

"Okay fine." I snap, dropping my bag and heading to the kitchen. I feel bad for my attitude, but I only know that it's because he cares about my well-being. As I'm standing there cooking, Eric makes his way over to me, his hands on my waist.  

"Would you feel better if I came to the meeting with you?" 

"You can't. It's just me, Max, and Jeanine." I speak, continuing to cook. While I pour the batter into the pan for the pancakes, Eric starts kissing on my neck.  

"Maybe there's something I can do to take your mind off of everything?" 

But there was nothing he could do. And that's what I was worried about.  

"Not right now, babe."  

The words kind of just come out, but I'm neither shocked at the random pet name, but instead I continue watching the pan, despite the fact that the pancakes weren't ready to turn yet.  

"Do you want me to pick up some tea?" he asks, walking away from the kitchen area and into the sunken living room.  

"Uh-huh." I respond softly.  

It's quiet for the next few minutes before Eric calls to me from the door.  

"I'll see you later."  

"Kay."  

Shaking my head, I place the cooked pancakes onto my plate, cutting up some banana slices, and then drizzling syrup on top. My stomach rewards me for the food I begin eating, and soon it's very hard to stop. I was hungry, I just hadn't even noticed. And that was a problem.  

 

To tell you the truth, I would've much rather had this meeting afterwards instead of on my lunch hour, but I didn't mind. However, I did feel rather silly just eating one of Arnold's trademark PB&J sandwiches in the midst of an important meeting. So I sat, almost like a five-year-old, drinking my apple juice and sandwich while Jeanine gave me questioning looks.  

"Sorry, I've been feeling poorly and haven't eaten much lately." I explain. 

"Well I hope it's not from the obvious reasons." 

"What do you mean?" I ask out of curiosity. Jeanine grins and snickers to herself a bit before turning to Max who was smirking, his arms folded in front of him. Clearly the joke had flown over my head.  

"Just a light banter," She spoke waving her hand. "You'll be allowed in Candor about an hour before meeting with Kang. That way you can see your family before. Perhaps it'll help with your decision making process. You'll be given the truth serum, and-" 

"Wait, truth serum?" I ask, nearly choking on my juice.  

Jeanine seems unamused at my lack of knowledge and folds her hands.  

"Milo-" She starts. 

"Samiyah." I correct her softly, and for a moment she's sitting there, wondering exactly what's going on.  

"What," She begins. She brushes it off quickly and continues. "This is a trial."  

"I thought I was just meeting with Kang and then I'd be transferred back. I was unaware of a trial." 

"Surely he has some questions to ask you about your time...away. May I continue?"  

I take a quick sip of my juice, all my attention back on her as I quickly nod.  

"Now, you'll go in and be given the truth serum. It's a shot given in the neck, and depending on whether or not you're hiding something, it should go easy and smooth. Unless you do have something to hide, you might want to say it before then, before the serum forces it out of you." 

I remain quiet, looking at her stern face as she flashes a smile.  

"You need not worry, really. It's a breeze, or so I've heard. Perhaps you'll have some peace of mind knowing your family, and the rest of us will be there to accompany you." 

"Who is 'the rest of us'?" I ask, looking at her.  

Blinking, she cocks her head to the side. 

"Four, Max, Eric and myself, of course." 

 

\--- 

Coming home that day, my mind was racing, wild, and crazy. I didn't know this was going to be a trial, let alone that Eric and everyone else that I cared for would be there, as well. Once everything's out and they realize I'm a spy, or that I was a spy, I was going to be killed.  

And while I was anxious to meet my family again after all this time, I couldn't help but want to turn to Mama Beth and Papa Joe for any answer. I tried my hardest to imagine them talking to me, to just breathe and relax, but it was difficult when they weren't really here. That still pained me, so.  

Opening the door to our apartment, Eric looked up from the stove. 

"Hey, you alright?" He asked.  

My breathing was heavy and labored, and I was sweaty. No wonder he asked if I were alright. I closed the door behind me, taking off my bag, and all but my bra and panties, rushing over to Eric, jumping into his arms. With a good grasp, he carried me, kissing me sloppily as we headed to the bedroom. He laid me down, and almost instantly his clothes are gone.  

I'm on my back with Eric's face between my legs just as once before, his hands reaching up and playing with my breasts. His tongue is circling my clit, causing my toes to curl from the wetness. He starts sucking on my clit, fast and without any signs of stopping. But he does, and it's a tease as he comes up, tongue kissing me while whispers in my ear, "Turn over." 

I do so, laying flat on my stomach. He shifts my hips up some and slips into me. This position is news to me, but it's better than the others he and I have tried.  

He's pounding into me, and I can feel my g-spot being reached better. I grip the sheets, my whole body trembling from the feeling as I allow loud moans to escape from my mouth. It was something about this position. The fact that I was constricted and couldn't move was probably one of the reasons why I loved it. And with little to no freedom to move, I'm left to take it.  

Eric's grunts behind me aren't helping, either. And soon, with his hands on my waist, occassionally smacking on my ass, I feel myself tighten around him. I'm about 100% sure I'm about to rip the sheets, and as I grip them tighter, he leans down close to my ear.  

"Cum for me." 

I can't handle it anymore. I reach my hand down under me, rubbing at my clit from this angle while he continues thrusting, deeper this time. I can feel myself explode, squirting all over my hand. Tears form in my eyes, and my body shakes as I'm sure I've found heaven. A tired grin crosses my face with a couple of moans as Eric finishes, his dick pulsing inside as he releases. Eric rests his body on top of me, breathing on my damp skin while gently kissing it.  

He pulls out slowly, laying on the bed next to me as I look at him with a grin.  

"Was that a good stress-reliever?" I ask.  

Not wanting to be reminded, all I choose to do is smile, cuddling up to him.  

 

Eric falls asleep fast, just like every other night, but especially fast considering having had sex. Dinner wasn't even on my mind, though when I left the bed to go to the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror. I was happy with the way I looked. My features are decent enough. But the more I looked at myself, the more I detested how I was on the inside.  

In due time, everything will be known, and Eric would hate me. And I would be left to Candor with a family who willingly gave me up without hesitation. Lovely.  

No longer caring to look at myself, I turn to the bedroom, grabbing a notebook and pen, heading to the bathroom.  

I sat on the edge of the tub, paper and pen in hand as I began to write: 

 

_I did what I did for reasons that I believed were right. But in_  

_reality, I was corrupted and fueled with anger, wanting to take it out on the faction system._  

_I don't expect you to understand or make sense of it all._  

_But I don't want you to hate me, either._  

_And when I'm exiled or executed, I just want you to know one thing:_  

_I'm sorry._  

_-Samiyah_  

Folding the note carefully, I walk out of the bathroom, tucking it into his mother's book of poems.  


	16. Trial And Error

It was cold and rainy. I couldn't have asked for a more horrible day for my trial to occur, which didn't exactly cheer me up for what's to come out of today. Who was I kidding? Nothing would. From the bedroom, I could see Eric analyzing what to wear, and I couldn't help but wonder: Did it matter? Of course it did. He wanted to look as professional as I did. And while parts of me wanted to find a white jacket or blouse to match my factions colors, I remained in all black, something I had grown to like within my stay here. From the kitchen as I stir my tea a bit, I can hear Eric's heavy footsteps leave the bedroom, stopping short. Sensing his presence, I turn around, looking at him. He's holding up his vest and his jacket, both on hangers. 

Upon seeing me, he gives them both a little shake and waits patiently for my response.  

"The jacket, since it's raining and all." I speak, turning back around.  

Eric retreats back into his room, as I continue sipping my tea. I carried my tea with me to the living room, stepping down and then sitting down on the couch. I needed something, anything to take my mind off of the time. But there wasn't anything around to do that for me. Instead, all I could do was wait for Eric to finish getting ready so that I could now only stress about the time. From behind me, Eric walks from the bedroom to the bathroom, and I can't help but call out, 

"Are you almost ready?"  

As if I'm in a rush to even leave the building.  

"I just have to clean my plugs, and I'll be ready." He calls out. Turning around, I catch a glimpse of him in the bathroom, standing over the sink, studying himself in the mirror. It's a funny task to watch Eric look at himself, but I could only believe he's human, too. And from this angle, I could only imagine how terribly difficult it would be to say good-bye to this place that I've grown to love, this man that I've grown to adore, and this lifestyle that I knew I couldn't leave. But I had to.  

My eyes moved from the bathroom and to the bookshelf, spying the pink book that was out of place. How did Eric miss that? He was so fond of order, and the fact he didn't notice that it was between Powerful Soldiers and Protecting Your Faction instead of it's correct alphabetical location made me think that Eric had more on his mind, just as I did.  

In a gloomy sort of way, I had accepted my fate overnight. After I wrote what I wrote and said what I said in the short note to Eric, all I could do was wait for it to happen, and hope that whatever comes of me happens quick before I'm even able to think of something to bring all emotion back.  

"What do you want to eat for dinner tonight?" Eric calls out, and I’m almost angered by his assumption. And then I think for a moment. I'm not exactly angry that he asked such a question, I'm angry at the fact that I'll never have a chance to eat, lounge, sleep, kiss, suck, hug, and anything else with Eric forever.  

When he steps out, his ears slightly pink from the cleaning, he notices my inability to speak.  

"I'm coming home after the trial?" Big mistake. 

He's almost as confused as I am now, and dropping into the sunken livingroom, he sits beside me.  

"I thought you were choosing Dauntless."  

"Dauntless isn't even a choice, Eric." 

"But I thought you were choosing to be here with me."  

"But that would make me Factionless. If I'm in Candor, at least I'm in a faction."  

"Something that you've accepted, being Factionless." 

"That doesn't mean that I'm ashamed of it. I just..." I trail off, and look back up at him. "Why are you so assertive about this?" 

He stares me, blank for a minute, and stands up, walking to the bedroom.  

"I'm sorry that I cared about where our future stands."  

I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster. I had gone through plenty in the last twenty-four hours, but I didn't need anymore just hours before the trial. So far, I counted at least five different emotions this morning. I woke up scared, took a shower feeling ironically dauntless, made some tea and felt calm, had a conversation with Eric and got angry, and now I felt sad once again.  

I didn't need this. Standing up, setting my tea on the coffee table, I head back to the bedroom, seeing Eric standing by the window with his arms folded. I wanted to fight with him, but I knew just like he did that he wanted an answer. This was taking a toll on him, as well, and I hadn't even realized it. I wasn't used to seeing Eric so unglued. With me being more reckless and forward about how I felt, seeing him display parts of emotion here and there seemed foreign. Even the day when he broke down about his mother, I still saw Eric slowly become himself later on that day.  

I slowly walked towards him, opening my arms and hugging him from behind as I wrapped my arms around his torso. I could feel his hands reach up to hold onto mine, and without even thinking, I say, 

"I'll make something when I come home." 

But I wasn't. And not by my own accord.  

 

By the time we had left, it was raining very slightly, though not enough. In the car, all I could do was hold onto Eric's hand. Nothing felt more peaceful than this.  

From inside the car with Max in the front, Four beside Max, and Eric and I in the back, I noticed the stares we received as we headed inside Dauntless, with a small black car directly behind us: Jeanine. 

"Let me know where." Max calls out as he begins to slow down once he enters into the neighborhood part of Candor.  

"You can stop here." I speak, to which he does. Max turns around to look at us, but mostly at Eric.  

"You have forty-five minutes." He speaks.  

Getting out of the car, I turn around, seeing Jeanine in the passenger seat, but she looks as though she's looking through me. I turn around, watching as Max left the truck, heading towards her vehicle.  

Eric meets me on my side, his hand on my back.  

"You ready?" he asks.  

To be completely honest, I'm not ready for any of this. Looking around at the few Candor who managed to get first glance at us.  

Walking to my house, I knock on the door twice, eventually growing nervous as more than five seconds wear on. Five seconds seems precious to me, as I had such limited time to see them before the trial.  

"Maybe they aren't here?" I ask, but it's quickly shot down by the fact that Kang would've let them know that I was coming specifically because of my trial.  

I knock a few more times, and am soon greeted by my mother.  

She hasn't changed at all. Nope, not at all.  

It takes her a second to look me over, but not in the way that I would hope. She's looking at my clothes, at my hair, at everything that I had become in my absence. Her hands cup my face, and it now feels all too real, but at the same time, I feel detached.  

"Oh, Samiyah." She speaks, pulling me into a tight grasp, her hand on the back of my head. From the back of the house, I can see my father coming downstairs, and soon after him my sister, Billie. 

I can't help but feel some sort of resentment towards him, and as the hug breaks apart, I stare up at him. He has traces of sadness in his eyes, but it doesn't compare to the fire I feel within me. Candors are usually very honest, trustworthy. You can rely on us...I mean, _them,_ to be frank when needed. But I would've never expected he would give me up and have me be Factionless.  

Oh wait, that's right... 

_Faction before blood._  

At first I chose not to hug my father, but when he saw me extend a hand out, he pulls me into one regardless, which soon breaks.  

I feel nothing.  

Billie comes running over next, her curls bouncing in the wind as she grins, her arms flinging around me. She had gotten taller, and more beautiful than the last time I spoke to her. She was also the first one to question Eric's presence.  

"Is that your boyfriend?" She asks, pulling away from me.  

"Billie," my father scolds. "Though I must say I am surprised they brought a guard to my daughter's reconciliation."  

Before I could speak up, Eric takes a step forward.  

"Eric Coulter, pleasure to meet you Mr.," Eric dawns on the last name for a bit, before my father speaks up for him.  

"Mr. Till." 

The greeting is awkward, and I feel the need to clear the air of the tension.  

"I've been living with Eric for a little while now. He's given me shelter, and food. Ocassionally his clothes." I manage to giggle a bit. The awkwardness you'd typically feel when discussing sex and boys with your parents isn't there, for me. I wasn't shy around them, but more or less trying to get the people around me to be easy.  

But my mother and father don't take to the joke. In fact, when they see Eric reach for my hand shortly after, they search for what to do. I can imagine it's all very strange to them; Having a daughter be brought back to their care after four years, and then have her bring along her boyfriend while making a subtle sex joke? I certainly didn't find much wrong with it, as long as I wasn't being lewd.  

"Do you want some tea? Some cookies?" My mother asks, heading into the kitchen as my father just stood and stared.  

"Sure." I speak out, watching Billie look from Eric and I, a slight grin on her face. I'm tempted to ask her what she's thinking of, but I know she's probably just being silly, thinking things a normal twelve-year-old would think if they saw their older sibling with their partner.  

My father walks to the door, peeking out and at the vehicles we arrived in, while I showed Eric to the livingroom.  

Sitting down in the house was odd. When my mother and father came to sit in the livingroom, as well, bringing back cookies and juice, I was suddenly not hungry. Of course it wasn't because of the treats, but because I was focused too much on the trial. Now that I was here, it was one less thing to worry about, and maybe eighteen others to focus on, now.  

What questions were they going to ask? How many? How long would it take? Would I know my fate right away? Would it be so bad that I couldn't even be taken to a cell for holding?  

I pick up a cookie for Eric, who declines it silently.  

"What, not hearty enough for you?" My father asks, looking at Eric. I glance at Eric who's staring dead at him, and I couldn't have wanted to get up and leave faster. "No protein? No energy? Too fattening?"  

"I simply didn't want a cookie." Eric responds. "At least I'm respectful when I don't want something. I don't just throw it away."  

My father stands up and so does Eric. They're both eye-to-eye, and I feel as though the nastiest fight is about to happen, which is when I stand up, trying to shimmy my way in between them. 

"How about some family photos?" I ask, looking at my mother who was equally as concerned.  

"They're upstairs in your room." She nods quickly, pointing.  

I make my way to the stairs, turning around and seeing both Eric and my father standing, just staring.  

"Since you're so dauntless, do something." 

"I would but the only thing stopping me is how I feel for your daughter." Eric states. I walk towards him, holding onto his hand as I lead him upstairs. 

My room is almost the same as it was before, except a few boxes were in there. It almost didn't seem real seeing it. My bed, my closet with all of my clothes. Did they expect this day to come?  

Eric stood beside me as I reached in the closet for an all-white blazer. When seeing the tag, I held my breath, looking at him.  

"These were recently purchased." 

"I guess they have different ideas in mind when it comes to today."  

Could that explain their hostility?  

I sat down on my bed, frowning a bit as I hold the blazer close to me.  

Eric took a seat beside me, his eyes focused on mine, and when I turn to him, I can feel my eyes well up with tears.  

Both of them had plans for my well-being and where I would live now, but none of them knew that neither of them would be an option.  

 

I was alone with my thoughts, and I didn't want to be. But as soon as I was escorted into the room for trial by two Candor guards, I felt nervous. All these faces were looking at me, but down in the front all I could see were those familiar to me. Before taking stand, I was injected in the neck with a truth serum, wincing at the feel of the pressure.  

I raised my hand, rubbing my neck a bit and turned to Jack Kang who nodded towards the direction of the platform.  

It didn't take long for the effects to kick in, and when they did, I thought I would vomit. My head was spinning, I was sweating, and I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. What exactly was in this stuff?  

Mr. Kang moves a big, his hands behind his back as he begins asking me questions. I try to focus on him and not on Eric staring at me, but knowing where he was didn't help me none. I feel like he and plenty of others were staring in awe at me, or rather in confusion as to how I got here. And why... 

After Mr. Kang gives me an uncomfortable, "May the truth set you free." I try to position myself to get ready for what he's about to throw at me.  

"Please state your name." Mr. Kang begins. 

With a brief clearing of my throat, I speak up, "Samiyah Till."  

"Ms. Till, how did you become Factionless?" 

"When I was sixteen, I chose Dauntless and I couldn't jump off the train, which was the first part of initiation. So I remained on the train, was taken downtown, and I jumped off, then."  

"How long ago was this?"  

"Four years ago."  

I felt easy. The questions weren't at all that bad. Perhaps I had nothing to worry about. Perhaps all would be well. Maybe, just maybe, I could make it home and have dinner with Eric.  

"Did you meet anyone who influenced you during your time as a Factionless?"  

"Mama Beth and Papa Joe specifically. They were an older couple and when I became Factionless, they helped watch over me like their own. I even got the pleasure of meeting the Factionless leader, Evelyn Johnson." 

"Ms. Till, did you personally know the men who formed the attack on Dauntless?"  

"Yes." 

"What were their names?"  

"The leader was Jules. The rest were Nick, Noah, and Raul." 

"What was your relationship to these men?" 

I feel a twinge in my chest as I try to fight back my words, but I can't. And I definitely can't let them see me struggle.  

"I knew them from the Factionless Headquarters?"  

"But how?" Kang's words are stern, and I instantly go into panic. I'm looking around at the crowd, and I suddenly feel so small. "Ms. Till, look at me."  

My head snaps back to Mr. Kang whose eyes are narrowed in my direction.  

"How did you know these men?" He repeats himself. I grasp my hands tightly and bite my lower lip, shaking my head a bit, refusing to answer, but it all comes out.  

"I was recruited by Jules."  

"For what purpose?"  

"He wanted revenge on the faction system for not caring about the Factionless."  

"While recruited, what did you do?"  

"Anything he told me to." I answer quickly.  

"Such as?"  

I try to force my mind to say 'paperwork' for some odd reason, but I can't. I make the 'P' sound, but I physically cannot. My throat dries and I can feel my muscles tensing up, contracting and releasing each time I eased up and tried to fight it. I suddenly lose my breath, and with a gasp I'm bent over, clutching at my sides. From the corner of my eye I can see Eric starting towards me, but gets backed into position by Candor guards.  

"They wanted me to spy on Dauntless."  

At this point, Mr. Kang is eyeing me closely, glancing from me to Jeanine and Max, and then back at me.  

"What did you find?"  

"I only found one thing. Just that there was something planned against the Factionless," I begin. I can feel myself sobbing now. "But it was just one thing. Only one thing!" 

"Stand up straight," Mr. Kang speaks. While waiting for me to do so, still sobbing, I look him in the eye, mentally preparing for anything else he had to say. "Are you saying you spied on Dauntless?"  

I'm extremely nauseated at this point, and with nothing left else in me, I clench my fists tight.  

"Yes." 

"Do you feel like your actions were wrong?"  

That was a tough one.  

"Spying, yes. But my reasons for doing so? No. The Faction system is corrupt. How can we have a functioning society when you don't care about half of it? We need change. We need Factionless who are able to receive wages, and better shelters, and the ability to live in places that don't have diseases. We deserve equal treatment."  

Mr. Kang is not impressed by my rambling now, and turns to Max and Jeanine. I dare not look, but when I hear the sound of guards coming to me, I feel uneasy.  

"Apprehend her." I hear Jeanine call out.  

"No, no wait you can't do this. I told the truth. It was only one thing. I didn't mean it, I swear."  

They have a grip on me, now, holding down my arms.  

"Stop, please! I can't...I didn't do anything wrong!"  

I'm yelling at this point while the guards try pushing me out. I'm trying to slow my footsteps, but when I see Eric's face, my stomach drops. He's visibly angry, staring up at me on the platform.  

"Eric I'm sorry! Please! Help me!"  

But he does not.  

"Execute her!" I hear Jeanine call out angrily from the trial room. With the words still ringing in my ears, I finally put together exactly what she said.  

I'm going to die.  


	17. Dead Zone

I couldn't have felt more alone. I was living in solitude, which was much worse than being Factionless. At least being Factionless, you could interact with people, and hear other voices except your own. But being in total solitude and not even being able to see the outside, I was at my worst possible self. I even got pleasure out of seeing the same guard who would come in twice a day to deliver me my meals. We barely made eye contact, and ever since my sentencing, I would ask him about the weather. But other than that, that's all we talked about. He was a handsome fellow, young with dark hair in a thick ponytail, around my age. I found out, etched on his uniform, that his name was Tony. He had kind features which made me wonder if he were truly dauntless or just apart of the Dauntless faction. I suppose both, but judging someone based on their physical features didn't do much good. I'm sure I didn't look like a spy, but here he was delivering food to me.  

From outside my cell, I laid there, the remnants from either last night's or my nap's dream still haunting me in the cold cell. I needed someone, anyone to talk to about it. If not, I would've been forced to converse with myself.  

All I could do was close my eyes, and try to get adjusted to the silence, though it were completely frustrating. Was I the only prisoner? No, I couldn't be. Just last night I heard a Dauntless guard yelling at a few to "shut up". So I wasn't alone, but I felt so. 

Last night's dream wasn't pretty, but it was almost the most devastatingly real thing that I had encountered ever since I been here, and the more I think about it, the more I couldn't wait to go to bed so that I could dream of Eric, again.  

As I close my eyes, I can still feel him in my subconscious, eyeing me angrily, fighting with me, tossing my things out. Even turning around and seeing a gun to my head. Suddenly, I wondered if it wasn't just a dream, or if this were a premonition of what were to come. Would it be some kind of sick joke to have the person you love execute you, by way of order? 

As I lay there, I perk up at the sound of footsteps. Rushing to the cell, I peer out and see Tony standing there, my tray and water bottle in hand.  

"Good morning." He spoke softly, refusing to make much eye contact.  

"Morning, ah, it's morning. Good morning, Tony." I speak.  

He unlocks the cell and I dread the steps he takes inside, placing it on the floor. I felt like a pet, almost like he were scared to touch me. Why should he? I'm just...me.  

"What's the weather like outside?" I ask.  

"It's uh, it's kind of cloudy. Kind of chilly. It was raining all last night."  

"And what's today's date?" I ask him. 

"Today's the seventeenth. So that means you have one more day until-" 

"Yeah I know, I didn't ask that." I frowned, sitting down.  

I'm annoyed by how he speaks of it, as though it's something I was looking forward to. I was going to die tomorrow, and all he had to say was a reminder of that? He's staring at me from where he stood, tall and straight, but I can't bring myself to look at him, due to the reminder of my shame. I shamed myself, I shamed my family, I shamed the Factionless. How were they to take the Factionless seriously with the stunt that I pulled?  

Tony's quiet, turning away to leave, but I stand up quickly.  

"Oh Tony please stay," I frown, walking towards him. Unlike the first guard I had when I was sentenced, he backed up and reached for his gun when I had stood up with him in the same room as me. But Tony was different. He was nice, and lenient, and he never once made it seem like I was a threat. Instead, he followed protocol, and he followed it politely.  

I suppose ruminating on politeness just 24 hours before my demise just showed character, but it also showed his, as well.  

Tony looked me in the eyes, for the first time since my short time here, and he can sense my loneliness.  

"I can't break protocol. If I do, who knows what'll happen to me, after you."  

"Why is it so easy for you to bring that up?" I ask, on the verge of tears.  

Tony takes a step closer and looks at me.  

"I'll be back for my lunch break. I have about an hour and a half. I'll sit with you." He whispers. I'm not sure if I entirely believe that he'll come back, but all I have left is my hope, and a tray of semi-warm mashed potatoes and creamed corn.  

 

By the time I finished, barely touching anything of my food, I sat there pacing my cell. My thoughts were getting the best of me, and when I hear footsteps once again, I'm alert, rushing to the cell. Tony gives a weak smile to me and, looking down both ends of the hallway, lowers himself down and onto the floor near my cell.  

He has a hearty lunch, and the smell is so potent. My stomach growls and before Tony takes a bite, he looks at me. I try to look away, not wanting him to find out I was eyeing his grilled sandwich and soup, but when he offers me some I gladly take it.  

In the middle of lunch, I kind of whisper to him.  

"Did you do the thing I asked you to?"  

Tony looks up, taking a sip of his water.  

"I couldn't find anyone by the name of Keanu from Abnegation. And if I did stumble upon him, he wouldn't want me to know that he was who he was." 

"Okay," I frown. "And what about Eric?"  

Tony looks down and begins fiddling with his food a bit.  

"I saw Eric, and I spoke to him. But when I told him I was delivering a message from you to him, he walked away. And when I tried to convince him, he threatened to report me to Max. So I dropped it."  

"Did you tell him about the pink book? Did you tell him to look inside of it?"  

Tony's eyes widen and with a shocked expression, he covers his mouth. 

"I forgot that part. I'm sorry."  

I want to be mad at Tony, but I can't. He was my only friend, or confidant, and when it came down to my final days, I needed as much support as I can get.  

When Tony is finished eating, sitting and relaxing with the remainder time of his break, I reach out for his hand, holding mine open. It's not a sign of romantic interest, but because I craved human contact, and when he reaches out and holds mine, I feel alright.  

Not great, not bad, but alright.  

His thumb caresses the back of my hand, and I feel like it's the forgiveness that I longed for but never received.  

"Tony?" I ask, trying to force back tears. He turns his attention to me, still holding my hand. I wonder what goes through his mind as he's looking at me. Is he thinking of his family? Is he still thinking of the sandwich he just ate? Or is he thinking of me, of how he's going to be one of the few people to see me die? Is he going to be the one to end it all? Is that why he's so nice to me? 

"Yeah?" he asks.  

"What do you think happens when you die?"  

I watch as he moves his feet back and forth a bit, thinking as he gently hums to himself.  

"I honestly don't know." 

"Is it like turning the light off for bed and going to sleep? Is it like drifting away and out of yourself? Will I feel it?"  

I'm talking to myself now, and though he's hearing me, he doesn't speak. He doesn't know, and I don't expect him to. Right now, the day before my execution, all I wanted was company, human contact, and Eric.  

God I wanted Eric... 

 

When Tony's lunch was done, I was left to be in my cell, alone. My hand burned, but not literally. I could still feel the remnants of Tony's hand on mine. The longer I waited for dinner, the more I just wanted my hand to be held again. 

I was resting on my cot, laying there, looking at the structure of my cell. I don't know what I was thinking exactly, but I was most likely zoned out, trying to grasp my head around the fact that my days on Earth were limited to hours, now. 

I had the insane thought that breaking out would be great, but how would I do that without tools? I could always ask Tony, but I didn't want him to get in trouble, nor would I even have that much time to escape, if he offered to help me.  

When dinner came, Tony handed it to me rather than placing it on the floor. Rushing to the bed, I placed the tray down after a few bites, and rushed to the cell. With one hand grasping the cell bar, the other reached out for Tony's hand, praying he'd take it just as he did before.  

And he does. He holds it in his for a couple of seconds, caressing it before letting go, walking down the halls.  

"Tony? Tony where are you going?" I ask frantically. He's ignoring me now, and I can't help but feel so abandoned.  

For the first time in my stay here, I cry, and I cry hard.  

It's this shaking, lonesome feeling inside when I wrap my arms around myself that it all hits me. I'm going to die alone, with no one there who wants to help me or see me. Not even the goddamn guard.  

To have human contact given to you for about an hour and then taken away, it was like a game, like a roller coaster of emotions trying to play me. 

I calm down relatively easy, laying on my bed as I try to get something to distract me from the sadness.  

Ah, the poems! 

But they escape my mind and I no longer can think of them. Thinking of the poems only makes me think of Eric more. I hated it.  

From behind me, I can hear footsteps, but I'm not excited to see who it is anymore. Still, I look over my shoulder, curiously looking at Tony who was analyzing me from the outside of the cell. His eyes trail down to my full tray, and I turn back around, not wanting to see him any longer.  

He unlocks my cell, and walks over to me, standing by my cot. I turn over, laying on my back as I look up at him.  

"What?" I manage to ask, to which he kneels by my cot, his hand allowing itself to explore my hair, and soon, leaning down, giving me a soft and delicate kiss.  

I feel nothing, and I know it's platonic. His kiss is so different. Different from the one Eric and I share. Everything between Tony and I is different from what Eric and I share...or shared. From the touch of our hands, to the way he looked at me and I at him, down to the way his fingers ran through my curls. Tony gives me one apologetic look, retrieves my tray, and locks me back inside, leaving me to lay there, dazed and confused.  

 

As morning came, faster than expected, I stood there, pacing my cell. Today was the day. The sudden proclamation makes it seem as though I've been waiting for this day to come, but I haven't. And all I could think is whether or not I accepted it. Or did I just give up and give in? 

Around me, guards are walking by, peering inside my cell at me, talking amongst themselves. I don't care what they say, because there were more important things on my mind.  

I wasn't rewarded breakfast because, come on, who could eat at a time like this? All morning, I hadn't seen Tony, and I wondered if he even remembered.  

Of course he did. He just wouldn't come.  

As I'm standing, I hear an unfamiliar sound. It's not one set of boots marching towards my cell; it's many.  

I back up from the cell door and as they approach, unlocking me, they enter. And I give myself over. Their grip on my arms isn't rough, and as I walk down the long corridor, I stop at the end as Tony unlocks the main door, refraining from giving me eye contact.  

Had he looked at me, would he stop it? Would he try to get them to believe that I'm a good person? A misled person? Someone who deserved a second chance?  

I'm led outside and into a vehicle with other armed men inside. They don't speak to me, and out of respect I don't speak to them. I'm looking outside the window at all the bystanders, and the harder I look, the more guilty I feel.  

"Eyes front, inmate." I hear a voice call to me, and when I look at the person speaking, the driver, my eyes widen when I see that it's Four.  


	18. Breaking And Entering

I still could not believe it.  

The whole incident swam around in my head like a dream, like a terribly ironic, funny dream that somehow almost costed me my life. And here I am, alive, breathing, seeing, hearing, feeling all that needed to be felt.  

The day of my execution, I was brought out and greeted by Four and plenty of Factionless guards. I can remember them all saying I was their "hero" and that my name had gotten around the headquarters. One even said, "You sure you aren't Dauntless?"  

That didn't exactly ease my mind as much as I would have wanted. In the car back then, Four had vaguely explained that under Evelyn and Kang's orders, I was to remain alive, due to the fact that Erudite couldn't sentence me, being that I did not belong to that faction. In turn, I was granted a pardon, or amnesty if you wish, back into Candor.  

Under my parents' roof.  

Each day, I stayed home with Billie, just babysitting. They were relieved of me being back, mostly so I can watch her and they wouldn't have to call on a babysitter. However, one day as my mother had come home, she greeted me not with "hello" but with "I landed you an internship." 

Great... 

I suppose just laying around wasting away wouldn't be good for me, anyhow, but I was afraid of being judged by people I barely even knew. 

To this day, I felt judged by the people I did know, and knew rather well, at that.  

It's as if I belong with my family, but at the same time I don't. I know there had been years lost between them and I, but I still felt so secluded. Before I became Factionless, we were all wholesome, and now, I just felt like an addition. And deep down, I wondered whether or not my family even wanted me here or to be associated with me. 

Just the other night, as we all sat quietly at our dinner table, I tried to eat my mother's cooking. It's not how I remembered, or what I had grown used to, but I'm grateful. I'm deep in thought, pushing my peas around on my plate while they converse around me. Like I'm not even present. I can't help but wonder what Eric's eating right now. Did he know how to make omelettes like I did? Were they good?  

My whole family laughs around me, and I clearly missed the joke. I smile a bit, perking up as I see them.  

"What's so funny?"  

They all kind of glance at me, their smiles dissipating as I chimed in.  

"Oh it's just one of Billie's friends. You wouldn't get it." My dad speaks, cutting some of the steak on his plate. I eye him, still not entirely finding it in my heart to forgive him, but now it seemed like he was keeping me out of the loop on purpose.  

Since I wasn't included in the conversation, I decided that it would be proper timing to speak up instead.  

"So, what am I to expect during my internship?" I ask mother, who is avoiding eye contact with me.  

"Well, you'll stick right by my side at my desk, and help me file some papers. I also borrowed a book about Candor law. Think it would be some good reading material for you. I also put the word out that you'll be around, so if anyone else wants you to help out, you'll go with them and they'll teach you a thing or two."  

It's quiet now, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. 

"Any word from your boyfriend?" Billie asks, insanely curious. Truthfully, she and I were asking the same question. Not wanting to explain that our relationship was over due to the fact I lied and was almost executed, I simply play along safe.  

"No, but hopefully soon." I speak. 

"You can have a Dauntless boyfriend?" She asks, almost in shock.  

"When I met him I wasn't in Candor."  

"Please pass the rolls." Mother speaks to me, though the rolls are in arms reach. She's interrupting us on purpose. Handing the bread basket to her, I look at Billie who is evidently full of questions.  

"So where is he?" She asks.  

"He's back at home." 

"You two share a home?" She asks, and my family look at me. I want to say "yes", but at the moment, that was debatable.  

"Enough with questions about the Dauntless. Let's rejoice that we have two beautiful girls in Candor."  

I furrow my brow, looking at my father who is oblivious to my stare.  

"What if I had made it into Dauntless, dad?" I ask.  

He peers up from his food and looks back down, as if daring me to ask once more.  

"What?" 

"I said, what if I had made it into Dauntless?" I repeat myself. "Would you still have two beautiful daughters or one?" 

"Samiyah that's enough." 

"No, you know what isn't enough? The fact that even after four years of being homeless, you act as though you did not have a hand in it." 

"I didn't tell you to deflect. I didn't tell you not to jump. You made your choices, and you get by through blaming others for your incompetence. That's how you got in your position now; blaming others," He spits. "Now you can have the option of being a whiny brat all you want, but just know that at the end of the day, you live here under my roof when you could've been-" 

"Dead." I finish for him when I realize he was having trouble speaking.  

With that, I left from my seat, and headed out the door.  

But that was all in the past, about two days into the past, and he still had not yet apologized, and I still expected one. Thus, we didn't speak.  

I must admit, while I did thank my father for giving me half of myself, I was resentful of the part that was stubborn.  

From outside my bedroom, I hear my mother's footsteps. She opens the door slightly, revealing a cup of hot tea in her hand.  

"It's chamomile." She smirks a bit, walking inside and setting it down on my nightstand. 

"Thanks." I speak, covers still up to my chin. I wanted to find fault with every little thing, but I knew I was only doing so because I missed Eric and because he hadn't come see me, even after I requested one last meeting before I were to be executed.  

And to me, that spoke volumes: Did he just not care about my life anymore? Did Tony even reach him? 

"You have to get up soon. We leave in an hour." She reminds me. Just like as a child, she walks to my closet and looks through my clothes, all the new clothes they bought for me. She throws a white blazer onto a black dress and faces it to me.  

"How's this look?" She asks.  

I want to say: 'not my style' but I force a smile, sitting up.  

"Really pretty."  

See? I wasn't even cut out for Candor... 

"Good, now get up, up, up. I'll be downstairs."  

 

When it was time for us to leave, my mother and I blended in with the other Candor citizens who were headed to their workplace. My mother was walking ahead of me, and as I walked, trying to catch up, I notice someone in all black standing to my left. He was kind of tucked away in between residential buildings, but still in plain view if you cared to notice. 

Glancing, I see Four scoping me out, and when I come up on him, he speaks.  

"Excuse me, Ms. Do you know where I can get in contact with Jack Kang?"  

"Uh, yeah, this way," I play along, dragging him behind some residential areas, and soon giving him a huge hug when the coast is clear. "What are you doing here?"  

"How are you?" 

I shrug a shoulder and look up at him. "I'm doing." Is all I can say, though he smirks. "Yourself?" 

"Physically I'm fine," He starts. He looks past me for a moment and steps closer. "I know that with everything you've been through, you probably don't have time or energy to hear what I need to say." 

"What's going on?"  

"I'm completely positive that Dauntless is planning an attack on the Factionless."  

"Why?" 

"There's too many of them, according to Max." And he's right. There are more Factionless than there are Dauntless. "They want to bring in select few for testing. Lure them in like how they did with you, and make them believe they're valuable and able to get another chance. When they have enough set for an army, they'll kill the remainder of the Factionless. They're calling it the Cleanse."  

"I don't know what I can do to help."  

"We have to get through to Eric."  

The sound of his words send me into shock. Was Eric apart of this? Did I fuel his hate towards the Factionless? Was this all my fault?  

"I can't." I shake my head, but when Four looks up at me, his hands on my shoulders, I grow worried that mother will come and see. "I have to go to work."  

"Then I'll come back for you, after dark. Right here." 

From my right, I see mother. For a moment, she stands in disbelief, and quickly shuffles along the way towards me.  

"Come now, Samiyah." She speaks, not even acknowledging Four. I hesitate for a moment, and make my decision. As I walk away from him, looking over my shoulder, I give a curt nod to him, and then turn back as we head towards her workplace.  

"You're not to associate with Dauntless, do you understand me?" She whispers, a good grip on my arm.  

"He was asking for directions." I lie, and she stops me, looking me dead in my eyes.  

"Who are you?"  

Her question isn't literal, but mostly rhetorical as she tells that I'm lying. I now wonder if all she's wondering about it why I'm lying to her, or why I've done the things I did. She's searching in my eyes for the young girl she knew, but I know that when she sees me staring back, she cannot find her. And that hurts her just as much as it hurts me. I've changed, and I don't fit in anywhere, but she doesn't see this. She doesn't understand. Out of sympathy, and not wanting to see my mother cry, I pull her into a tight hug, all the while wondering if Four were still standing behind us. 

 

By the time it was nightfall, and my eyelids grew heavy from tiredness, I poked my head outside my bedroom. Quietness, the uneasy kind.  

I tip-toe towards my parents bedroom, placing my ear to the door. I can hear my father snoring, and when I open the door slowly and quietly, I can see my mother laying there, asleep as well. They looked so peaceful, like the mother and father I always knew before I came and turned their lives upside down. Closing the door carefully, I make my way to Billie's room, beside mine. She, too, was sleeping soundly in her bed. And I knew, I had to make my move.  

I left the house with my bag, moving close by the surrounding houses as I make my way to the area Four and I were at earlier today. I can see him walking away, perhaps given up. I wonder how long he had been waiting, and since we didn't discuss a time, I suppose he had been waiting for a while, now.  

I don't call out to him, but I do catch up to him as I jog a bit. He turns around in defense but relaxes when he sees me. He's carrying a bag of things as well.  

"What's in yours?" He asks.  

"I just brought it in case," I speak. I look down at his and ask the same question. Four pulls out clothes, a black shirt, Dauntless pants and a jacket. I changed quickly, with Four's back to me, and when I'm done, we make our way to Dauntless.  

As we approach, I feel instantly guarded and confused.  

"How are we going to get in?" I ask.  

He looks at me, flashing a quick grin, and says, "Arnold's working the late shift."  

Arnold? He was in on this?  

Making our way to the back of the building, we were relieved to see it desolate; no guards.  

I carefully tried to scale the building, falling a few times, but eventually jumping and reaching the top with Four there to help pull me up.  

 

We took the stairs, knowing that there weren't any cameras in them, and when we reached the sixth floor, we walked, our backs turned to the camera as we reached Eric's apartment. I start for the door, but turn to Four. He senses my apprenhension and with a comforting hand on my shoulder, I place my ear to the door. I don't hear any movement, and I'm left to question whether he's even in there or not. Using the maneuver that Jules taught me, I break in slowly and carefully as Four lingers by the door, on his tablet.  

I step inside, and it's not a comforting, welcoming feeling like I were used to. Instead, it's cold, and dreary, like I don't even belong here. But on top of that, it smells...sour. 

His bedroom door is cracked open ajar, and I can see movement under the covers. But as I take a step forward, I hear movement from the bathroom, and I pause in shock. I watch as Eric comes out of the bathroom, rubbing his eyes, but upon seeing me standing there, he stops. He's in his boxers and nothing else, so I'm left to question who was laying in his bed where I was supposed to be.  

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his voice low and raspy. But my eyes can't tear apart from the figure in the bed. For a moment they do, and I look back at Eric who's still standing there, trying to make sense of what my presence there is for. I know I'm there to discuss business with him, but all I can muster out is a question that hurts my heart.  

"Why didn't you come see me," I ask. He's still staring, his look cold and dark. "The day before my execution, why didn't you come see me?" 

I try to force myself not to cry, but that only makes my voice raise. At the sound of my voice, the figure in his bed shuffles even more, eventually standing up and making their way to the door.  

"Eric who's that?"  

I recognize her. Standing there in one of his shirts like I was, tired eyes and lazily standing against his bedroom door, I see her. She looks from him briefly, noticing me, and tries to stand up straight. 

Jenna.  

"What are you doing here?" She asks, narrowing her eyes. 

"What are _you_ doing here?" I retaliate, furrowing my brow at her. It's obvious she's not in her right state of mind, but she walks over to me.  

"Eric said I could stay here," She explains briefly. Glancing at him, I feel outnumbered, embarrassed, and weak. The way she walks over to me, with much sass and sophistication, I feel intimidated. She looks good in his shirt, like it's almost made for her, and I hate to let myself admit. "You can be killed for being here, y'know. Your face is all over Dauntless with the words 'beware of the traitor'." 

Something animalistic rises in me, and with each step she takes towards me, I take one towards her. I'm threatened by her being here, and more or less confused as to why she's here in the first place. Eric steps between us, much like I had to do not long ago when he went up against my father. His back is facing me, and in a short whisper he tells her, "Go back to bed. And close the door."  

She does so, her eyes on me as she begins to back up, heading back to the room, bringing the door to close, or much rather...a slam.  

With just us in the front of the apartment now, I lose everything that I'm meant to say to him. I came in with words, and I'm leaving with hurt.  

"What are you doing here?" he asks.  

I don't want to talk to him, but I don't want to leave, either. And following those confusing emotions, I hate him but want to bellow out that I love him. And I did. It really felt like I did love him.  

"I heard that there's something going on between Dauntless, Erudite, and the Factionless," I speak. It's not my conversation topic of choice, but it has to be. "If you let Max go through with this without stopping, thousands of innocent people are going to be hurt, relocated, or worse."  

"That's not their plans. It's just a round up of Factionless. No one is going to be killed," He begins. "And changing plans is out of my control. I'm a leader, I train initiates, I don't run Dauntless."  

"No, you're wrong."  

"Enough," He spits, rather loudly. "If you think coming to me as a spy tactic is enough, then you're wrong." 

"Eric it's not a spy tactic, it's me. I'm trying to get you to understand that this is wrong. You know it is."  

"It's not my job to determine what is and isn't wrong." 

"No, it's not your job. But it's common sense."  

Eric's quiet for a moment, and chooses not to speak. He's standing in front of me, looking at me, but I can tell he's deep in thought.  

"Why didn't you come see me?" I ask. 

"Why didn't you tell me you were a spy?"  

"I didn't mean to-" 

"To what? You didn't mean to lie to me? To hurt me? You didn't mean to use me?"  

"Eric I wasn't using you. Everything was real. _We_ were real." 

" _We_ are done," he speaks, walking past me and heading to the door. I'm not looking at him, but I know he's waiting for me to leave. "Get out."  

His words hit me like daggers, but standing here, looking down into the living room, I can see his couch, a blanket sprawled messily on it while a white pillow lay on the arm. I turn to the bookshelf, seeing the pink book tucked neatly in its place.   

Eric doesn't repeat himself again, and he doesn't need to. I walk out of the door which he impatiently held open for me, and with a slam, I see Four standing there. He doesn't have to ask me any questions, but when he sees me, he knows that I got nowhere with him.  


End file.
